


Nimbus

by K_Lionheart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Plot Twists, Suspense, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:09:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 232,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Lionheart/pseuds/K_Lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People said that it only gets brighter after it rains, after the storm finally hits. But this was a storm with no end.<br/>"Please...Forgive me."<br/>Sequel to Thunder Clouds. Rivamika/Eruhan (multiple ships)<br/>Rated M.<br/>(SPECIAL NOTE: Please re-read chapter 15 as it was unfortunately not uploaded correctly. it is now fixed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired Tracks: From the Assassin's Creed Revelations OST – Animus Island, Infiltration, and We Talk Together  
> (8tracks Playlist for Nimbus is now available)

_In the year 854, The Monarchy passed a law to all the factions of the military. While Humanity celebrated its complete victory and liberation as prey for the Titans and uncovered the secrets within, it was faced with an all new kind of threat. The threat of extinction by their own hands. In order to ensure the survival of all who had outlived the victims of the Final Conflict, it had been decided that any and all officers that carried the capacity to procreate, were not invalided by the final war, and maintained the loyalty to the Crown, would be mandated to fill out a Survey of Compatibility. Such was the way of ensuring the strength of the next generations to come. However, discord threatens to rip through the last tethers that hold the government together, power struggles slowly consume the weaker minded… and while the Mandate itself was designed to ensure the control over humanity, humanity's very soul was never meant to be leashed._

* * *

There was a certain stench in the air. Acrid, vile, and just bearable enough to allow people near its vicinity but, not enough to keep them close for long. Breaths broke through several pairs of nostrils in uncomfortable bursts, all save for one. Dark blue eyes blinked, unwavering despite the foulness of the air and the silence ebbing from the other side of the prison bars that felt almost as violent as the stench threatened to become.

_The thing about putting an animal in a cage for most of its life is you'll come to notice how it often dreams of being free. It will stare out through the bars, miserable and at one point you will see it attempt to escape, chewing at the bars, rattling them to find a weakness in the stronghold… but then…little by little you'll notice how soon it grows to accept the cage._

_When you finally open the cage door, you'd expect it would rush out. Only… it doesn't._

There was a cough given by one of the guards, whether it was caused by the persistence of the smell or the uncomfortable atmosphere, who could tell. The sound echoed. Pronouncing each passing second of patience and seeming build to a spoken word between the two figures sitting opposite one another.

_It stays put, watching curiously and blinking, wondering if freedom is really there. If it has finally come. A flavor that they have been wondering for years and years on how it would be is finally there and suddenly… it's not quite as sweet as they had hoped._

_It's subtle, but real._

To the guards, it was a simple visit between soldiers. Both pronounced figure heads, one a hero, the other a usurper. The guess to who was which was as easy as a glance to take in their apparel. In this case, though, simple appearances would be wrong. Very wrong.

"Leave us." The command was given, surprisingly, not by the hero. Yet the soldiers exchanged one glance, nodded and filed out in a series of echoing steps that did nothing to lessen the tension thickening between them.

_Most of the time, you will see it slowly move forward, peek its head out and sniff the air. Eventually, you'll notice that it will take maybe one or two steps outside its cage and look about in wondering silence. Now, here's the interesting part because it honestly takes a couple of scenarios to see the point._

"You summoned me," the owner of the blue eyes spoke, watching with thinly veiled curiosity.

Dark eyes rose from their position against the floor, burning with an intense hatred that was so strong, anyone else would've wilted beneath its fury. "Summoned? You mock me. Even now, you mock me. Have you no shred of human courtesy, Commander Erwin Smith?"

_In one case, the animal could be frozen for a short period of time before deeming their freedom as a good thing and they will take off, running forward and expanding their zone as much as possible. Like a beggar finally given food._

There was no response from the Aryan, save a simple exhale that exposed nothing. This lack of reply seemed to infuriate the prisoner, making him lean forward from his rickety chair to burn violence against the bars and the man separating him from freedom. "Even now, you cannot even pull up enough dignity to give me a straightforward answer, can you?" he sneered.

_In the other, the animal could very suddenly return to the cage, spooked and not at all prepared to rush out and enjoy its freedom._

"What do you want, Nile?" Erwin asked, betraying absolutely nothing to the jab. The ex-officer leaned away, shrugging casually as he leaned his head against the head of his chair.

"You cannot answer a question with a question, Erwin. That's no fair at all." Nile Dawke chuckled, nearly giggling with a strange hysteric undertone. Still, the blonde man refused to react.

_But why?_

There was another tense silence before Nile suddenly pushed himself up and grasped at his seat. Tugging it forward, the wood screeched against the stone brutally until the former Military Policeman slammed it back down, dangerously close to the bars and to the man waiting for him to speak.

_I'll tell you why._

"I've been in here long enough, Commander." Nile sighed, leaning his head to rest against the bars. "I've lost count of the days, the seconds…the moments that bleed into each other without care for the rise or fall of a false sun…"

Erwin's blue eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry to hear your stay hasn't been pleasant."

_Because it all depends on the environment. See, once that animal realizes that the only safe place is within its cage, it will retreat to it and no longer do those bars represent restrictions, but sanctuary. And once the animal is certain this is truth…_

All too suddenly, Nile was pressing his face fiercely against the spaces between the metal. "You're apologies mean nothing to me, Commander." The man spat. "They mean nothing because you are responsible, we both know who should really be behind these bars, don't we?"

_It will probably never leave the cage out of its own wish again…_

Again, there is no response from Erwin save a simple glance of blank emotion. Nile pressed on, "It is I, who should be celebrated. Me! You used me and tricked me and because of you…I am dishonored. You!"

_And in the end…_

"You make such violent claims when all the evidence pointed to you." Erwin insinuated. Yet, despite the calmness of his voice, the unaffected gleam in his gaze, his fists still gave a small clench and his mouth gave a twitch that told the dishonored man he was completely affected. "Even now, the evidence points to you."

_It would choose to die within its cage, perfectly content to never have tasted different air and seen different things..._

A slick smile slowly melts through Nile's filthy lips, his eyes narrowing cruelly before asking, "Is this because of Maria?" There is a single pause where none exchange breath. This was a low blow. One that made the darkness of Erwin's eyes only tighten in an almost threatening gleam. In the space of dim lighting and dank atmosphere, the expression was lost on Nile as his lips curled into a vicious smile—taking Erwin's silence as an admission. "Even now, you can't let go of the fact that I married her?"

"I am not a petty man, Nile," Erwin replied evenly. "The coup was investigated thoroughly. Letters were found. You failed."

"That was _YOUR PLAN!_ " Nile roared, throwing himself to the bars and clawing at them until his fingers bled, spittle flying from his mouth as he attempted to reach the blond Commander. Erwin did not even blink. "YOU were responsible! YOU wanted to take over the government! It was you!" He cursed, wroth and nearly foaming with such seething anger. "We both know the truth, Erwin! But instead of admitting defeat, you _used me_ to save your own wretched ass! You did this and I will not sleep until I see your face properly rotting in a cell darker than mine!"

_All because it was too afraid. Because its soul had been broken._

Erwin face was a perfect slate of flat emotion; unaffected, bored. This seemed to infuriate the imprisoned man to an even higher extreme and he was shaking the bars and beating them with bloodied fists as he spat insults and violence through his darkened teeth. "Coward! Usurper! You! YOU!"

_The desire to fight all too gone after years of wearing its teeth down on metal bars and voice gone from having shouted until it had gone mute._

It took three minutes. Three minutes until Nile collapsed to his knees, gasping and wheezing angry grunts and broken sobs. Three minutes and Erwin was standing to his feet, blinking at the former Military Policeman's body without pity, without mercy. There was no cruelty or malice in his expression, however. Just the simple cold observance of a man watching another crumble to his darkest shells.

"…I will be in touch." Erwin stated after a moment. "Do not get used to your cell, Nile."

He didn't give the man any more attention after that, and with a swift turn of his leather boots Erwin was marching out of the prison cell. Footsteps echoed past him yet Nile made no more cries against him, and it was that sound that proceeded to end whatever meeting they had left.

… _But we can't allow that… can we, Erwin?_

 _No, Hanji._ Erwin thought as he strode past the guards and the door they opened for him before saluting firmly. _We cannot._ The sound of his feet colliding with the ground was the only sound that followed him as he walked down the prison's halls. When he did escape the enclosed spaces of stone and brick, Erwin was met by the silver casting of the evening's dim moonlight.

There was no mercy in the moon. Not this night. Not when there were secrets weighing in the heart… accusations still burning within his ears and shooting knives at the base of his head…

Where once, it's large and silver face would cast a gentle glow over the land much like a loving guardian keeping watch while those in bed were cast in dreams and the whimsical twinkling of starlight, it would bring soft light through the crevices of carelessly thrown curtains, offering a silent promise of protection and even blessing over thrashing bodies giving in to throes and cries of passion all because _I can't ignore you. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow night. But not now…_ In the dark, moonlight had been a simple cast of silver that enlightened curves and heated gleams in eyes that were too drunk in each other to care for impending doom and quickening fate…

Now…

Now there was no face.

Only a sliver of a grin hanging in the sky; betraying all trust and laughing without mercy at the fools who had believed in the promise of its fullness.

She was not with him tonight. Her lack of presence casts such contrasting emotions through a broad chest and dark blue eyes. Longing, because if there were ever a time he needed her it was _right now. Especially now._ After having to face an old demon that refused to wait. Yet, there was a grateful acceptance as well, because if there were ever a time he could not possibly handle looking into her eyes it was _right now._ All because of one _single_ symbol hidden within the folds of his pockets.

How is it… that this single symbol – a stretch of curves and dips in color – could burn such a bitter hatred in his heart? Single, red, and displaying the proud animal that the Monarchy had only ever heard stories about in old history books. Once—long ago—blue eyes had marveled at its creative genius, at the ability of using such an interesting creature to embody an ideal—to stand for protection and order, he had grown to bow to its simple design only to slowly gather venom to spit at its feet. In the past few weeks—more like the past few years—the symbol had changed. Not in style or detail, but in meaning to all those who had fought under its control. Its face no longer carried the visage of order and power that its keepers and enforcers had once believed in.

Now, it seemed to stare into the eyes of each man and women stripped of their ethical freedom with the same gaze a snake would give to a cornered mouse.

Personally, Erwin had believed he had attained a kind of immunity to its appearance, a sort of detached appraisal per se. As he had called in soldier after soldier, delivering the news of their match and who would be spending the rest of their lives with whom in raising a child (maybe more) because it was _necessary_ rather than hoped for. The Commander of the 13th Legion of the Survey Corp had been able to exact a surgical disinterest with each revelation of names and destiny.

Of course, _that_ came with no difficulty to his part at all. To him, it was just reading names out loud. To him, it was only calling a verdict without realizing the extent of the sentence. He had dabbled in being called a murderer for the sake of ensuring Humanity's Survival. Literally, the blood of hundreds of soldiers stained his hands and all of their names were marked in deep black over the pounding of his heart, darkening his blood and drowning him in an emotional darkness. He knew that had been necessary. The day the last of the Titans had fallen and thousands more saved, Erwin knew that all that sacrifice had not been in vain. For a while, it seemed as all those names were finally lifted from the wrangled organ, pulsing slowly purifying blood through his veins. In the end… all those lives had counted.

Yet, his liberation, his freedom from the shackles of guilt and lives lost was as short-lived as was his hope for marrying the woman who gave him reason to let himself smile again.

So quickly had he been given air to breathe only to be forced back under the weight of new names, different lives now horrifically forced to bow down over an unspoken right to choose who to love and who to live with. He had truly believed that, like he had been able to shoulder the lives of many lost in the fight against their predators, he had enough strength and experience to shoulder this new situation.

But that was, obviously, an idiotic idea. It seemed life thought so too, and scorned him of his ability to detach himself because now, he was forced to understand the rage of all those new names and eyes and faces, _because right now_ —in this moment—he felt it all as clearly and as powerfully as if it was his own.

And it was his own.

That hateful symbol was etched and painted over a slim white surface of a file hidden under a cloak that carried his fate and the face of the woman that would be called to be his wife until the end of his days.

 _To Commander of the 13_ _th_ _Legion of the Survey Corp,_

_Erwin Smith,_

_We extend a hand of gratitude for the duties you have completed for your people, government and King. With much expressed admiration, we would like to also thank you for giving such skill over to the Military, specifically your leadership to the Survey Corp. Without your efforts, many lives would have been lost and we further extend gratitude for your ongoing loyalty to the Crown in participating in this mandate._

Some say the world will end in fire… others say in ice.

Did it burn? Did this rage burn through his veins? Erwin wasn't sure, it was seldom he felt the emotion unravel him. But if there was time to compare, he could easily side it to a freezing in his veins. A stillness unlike any he had ever felt before had spread to every cell in his body, as if the very news standing before him had cast him in a timeless void where all that stood and glued him to reality was the name and the picture of the end to his freedom.

Firm hands pressed tight over the wood of a polished desk. Blue eyes stared, unblinking and lacking all the previous euphoria he had felt in his body from being so close to her again.

No longer will the moon glance down over their bodies again and be a silent witness to their love filled words and gasps of wild and careless self abandon.

Now it was grinning down. Just one sliver of a hateful grin as terrible as the crimson mark staining his future.

Time was up.

* * *

_Ice…_

_Fire…_

_What's do they matter_

_when they're all trying not to drown?  
_

* * *

_A/N: Get your wine, chocolate and tissues, ladies and gents. This is going to be a rough feels ride._


	2. The Fall of Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "…The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground."  
> -Andrea Gibson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's inspired tracks are: Istanbul, Welcome to Konstantiniyye and Byzantium from the Assassin's Creed Revelations OST

Blonde strands felt like silk falling through slender fingers, blue eyes blinking with awe as she watched the tresses slip through her hands to fall back over the soft pillow beneath them. It was fascinating to see how light liked to play with things, making them glow in strange angles or making them glisten like starlight. Right now, all Krista saw was wonderful starlight dancing through her fingers the more she ran them through her beloved's hair.

It was strange that it looked so different when that same color spread over her own scalp and ended past her shoulders, but it did.

If she had to decide what light she liked best over his head, it was this light. The light of early morning, as it was still gentle enough to not blind, yet bright enough to allow every little detail go unmissed. Although, it was probably more because it was in this early morning that the young, petite blonde could stare shamelessly and without care for other's opinions—and also the fact that Armin was still deep in sleep and oblivious to her ministrations over his long hair.

For a time, she picked out the strands that stood out among the rest, letting their slightness slip over her skin to fall back against his. With a sigh, Krista slowly rose from his embrace to rest on her elbows, feeling her own hair shift from her nape to fall behind her as she loomed over his dreaming expression. Slowly, she shifted the same hand that had been playing with his hair to brush invading bangs out of his eyes and forehead, letting dainty fingers brush over the closed lids and softer lips.

When all golden strands had been successfully removed from her beloved's face, Krista began to retract her wandering limb only to freeze over his jaw when he softly spoke, "Don't stop."

Scarlet bloomed roses over the apples of her cheeks and her heart gave a sudden jump before bursting into a gallop, surprised that she had woken him and that he had so easily startled her. His breathing hadn't changed or anything…!

"You're supposed to be sleeping," She hummed, sheepishly breathing out her embarassment in quick bursts through her nostrils. "Did I wake you?"

Armin's eyes remained close even as a smile pushed the corners of his lips upward, "Yes, and it was the best 'wake up' I've enjoyed in a long time."

She didn't have a chance. A warm smile was soon quickly dominating her lips and making her feel strangely shy, her fingers falling from his face to grab the covers and hide. That didn't last long, either. Swiftly, his hand rose and caught the slender palm that still tingled pleasantly with the feel of his glittering hair.

She let out a soft gasp of surprise, "A-Armin…!"

"You stopped," His voice came out teasing and the blush on her face intensified. "I didn't want you to."

Krista pouted, "You weren't supposed to wake up."

Finally, those beautiful blue eyes blinked open to search her own, the smile taking on a goofy tilt the more he looked her over. The lurch of embarrassment only proceeded to skyrocket under his syrupy gaze, yet Krista knew better than to hide from his eyes' careful wanderings. He would only pin her down and press teasing digits into her sides and discover tickle spots that would leave her squealing with mortifying glee. With a sigh, the right corner of his mouth tipped up into her favorite crooked grin and she knew that if he kept this up, her heart will be the next thing choking her.

"I might still be sleeping," He whispered, "Because this has definitely got to be a dream."

The fact that even worked…When in the hell did he get so disgustingly suave?

"You are so unbelievably full of it," Krista grumbled, pointedly looking away to obscure her self-consciousness from his scrutiny. It was too late, anyway. He had her wrapped around his pinky and it only took a few clever words and lazily batting eyelashes before she was absolute putty in his arms. She could only imagine his power on their wedding night.

Ah… yes, that's right.

He was going to be her husband in one month's time. Just one month. It's a marvel time didn't leave her feeling completely whiplashed after all that's happened…

In the blink of an eye, Armin had shifted to lean on his elbow and toss an arm over her belly, effectively making her collapse beneath him. Krista only had enough time to gasp before being pinned beneath a wicked grin and twinkling blue eyes.

"Of course, I am." He agreed and that same hair she had so meticulously pulled away fell around them like a curtain of molten gold. "I'm marrying the perfect woman. A lesser man would've probably exploded and died with the joy of such a privilege."

"Thank you for the delightful image to start off the day," she returned, rolling her eyes despite the way her heart was galloping excitedly. "I now know to make sure no other man gets near me for their own safety."

"I wouldn't let any other man make the attempt," he chuckled. He really shouldn't do that. She felt it right in her chest when he did that and it was making it impossibly hard not to flip him over and ravage him then and there. It was as if he was trying to make it hard, making the promise they had made to wait until their wedding night to finally consummate their love feel like such a chore to follow. Damn him.

With a firm frown, Krista fixed him her sturdiest glare, "Armin, you keep this up and I won't hesitate to punch you."

The bastard had the nerve to blink innocently at her, "Keep what up?"

"Armin."

"What? I'm only pointing out the sheer and utter happiness I have for being so close to marrying the woman of my dreams, nothing wrong with that, right?" All too suddenly, his hand was tracing lazy patterns on her side, rubbing and grazing over a clothed belly that was now trembling beneath his every flick and flutter. Breath quite devastatingly hitched in her throat, Krista bit down on her lips. Her glare was falling apart now, she was quickly losing the upper hand here. Like she ever had it to begin with.

"I'm w-warning you," she breathed and her hands were clenching tight over the white sheets, shuddering something fierce when his eyes half closed into a definitively seductive glint. "Armin…"

"Yes, Historia?" He hissed, nuzzling her cheek with his nose and letting the breath of his mouth tingle over her ear. The ability and finesse in which he played jump rope with her boundary line was leaving her more and more infinitely frustrated and it only became worse whenever he used her real name like that against her. She wasn't sure whether she hated him or wanted him to let those teasing hands finally tear her clothes off and allow her fingers to rake and tug and yank at that gorgeous golden hair until they were both screaming. Damn him.

"I'm going to…" She was panting now, trembling and writhing under each touch. One glance and she could see the excitement rise in his blue eyes, pink tongue darting out to moisten soft lips and make her want to rip something in half. Not if I have a say in it.

"Going to…?" Armin hummed, leaning closer to brush his nose gently against hers playfully. In one swift and surprising moment, Krista had gathered enough strength to wrap a leg over his waist and throw a hand over his shoulder before rapidly tossing her betrothed on his back. Armin let out a very startled gasp the moment their bodies bounced on the mattress, his movements ceasing the moment he watched the normally shy girl transform into the fierce woman she was right now. Her hands had found his wrists as she pinned him to the pillows and a sneaky grin curled over pink and plump lips.

After a moment of particularly thick sexual tension, Krista's smile broadened before announcing in an overly cheerful voice, "I'm going to get some breakfast." With a kiss to his nose, she released him before peeling herself off and flouncing off his bed before his hands could scramble to grab her.

As expected, Armin let out a dramatic sigh of disappointment, "You are unshakable, woman."

"Just one month, Armin," She cooed over her shoulder, running a hand over her bed-tossed hair and winking at him saucily. "Patience is a virtue."

"You are worth every second!" He called after she snatched up her things and sashayed out of his room, but not before rushing over and pressing a swift kiss over his lips. Just to settle the score a little bit more. The door slid shut before he could attempt to throw her back onto his bed and with a soft groan, Armin felt his back meet his mattress once more, smiling giddily to himself at the reminder of being so close to claiming Krista as his.

With practiced silence, Krista made her way down the slowly filling hallways in the direction of her quarters. Despite her engagement, the girl still had a room to look after and while she may have several of her belongings taking space within the confines of Armin's bedroom (and vice versa) she still needed to change her uniform before more people got involved into their personal lives than they already did.

Of course, with the circulation of Captain Levi and Mikasa's finalized relationship spilling from every gossiping soldier's mouth, Krista wasn't too worried about her business popping up in the grapevine. Those two were the closest thing to celebrities the Survey Corp had. Rumors of their skill and efficiency as Humanity's Strongest had sparked quite the question of whether or not they would flourish romantically.

Amusing as it was, the fact that even soldiers were so eagerly swayed by news of love and romance, when word got out that not only were they matched (which came to no one's surprise at all) but so immediately affianced shortly afterward, the entire castle nearly exploded with bright news and happy congratulations. However true their military dynamic was, no one had expected them to have fallen in love quite so abruptly.

Then again, with how everything has been, the focus hadn't really been garnered to such a consideration. Even those closest to them had been taken aback by the fiery rage of passion that sparked between them after that day in the rain.

Of course, some people weren't quite shocked as they were pleasantly surprised. Krista being one of them.

Call it a gift, or maybe some kind of intuitive ability, but Krista had been able to detect the strange sparks of affinity between them since long before their relationship was realized. She had been able to effortlessly catch the sexual tension beginning to tie Jean and Sasha together, but they're both idiots and didn't realize any of that until she gave Sasha a much needed push.

Levi and Mikasa, however… that was something she knew if she had stuck her fingers in she would've most likely ended up getting burned. Lucky for her, she kept her nose out of it and, and while it took time… it worked out in the end.

Now, they—like her and Armin—were engaged to be married.

Although, the news of their actual wedding date did leave many spinning and reeling with confusion. When Levi had proposed the same day they were matched, most of everyone was convinced the marriage would occur just as quickly only to be surprised in knowing the date would not be until next spring.

"They probably just need some time to get to know each other better…" Armin had shrugged when the topic came up during supper, two nights after the famous proposal.

"Isn't that the point of marriage?" Connie quipped in return, bouncing a fork in rhythm to his words as he fixed Armin a flat stare.

"With that logic, why don't you and Li tie the knot already?" Jean smirked through a large bite of the evening's meatloaf, "Seems like you two need the most time getting to know each other better."

Sasha's elbow quickly met his ribs despite the satisfied grin on the taller soldier's face. The buzz cut's face soured despite the flush burning through his cheeks as he turned an unamused glare on Jean. At Connie's side sat the very auburn haired woman in question. Their shoulders were a clean two feet apart in distance, as if not wanting to cross into each other's space more than necessary.

"Why don't you and Braus, eh, Kirschstein?" Li's vibrant green eyes flashed sharply once despite the monotone of her statement. "Especially since you seem so eagerly keen in getting to know the sounds Braus makes when she's rubbing herself on your lap every night." Instantly, Jean's face flushed a bright scarlet and Sasha nearly choked on a bite of bread. The nature of her statement seemed to have sent the entire table into a fit of sputtering, save Connie—who was hiding a wide grin behind his palm and attempting to keep nonchalant.

"I have no idea what you're talking about…" Jean stammered, scowling as swallowed down his food in an attempt at being casual.

"Sure you don't." Li replied, casually biting into a slice of potato.

"In any case," Armin coughed while Krista stifled a giggle behind a dainty hand. "Some people just need more time. I'm just glad our wedding doesn't have to compete with theirs." He added with a wink to his fiancé.

True enough, Krista shared the same sentiment. She didn't particularly find a huge desire to host a very large wedding (the only ones they invited had been close friends and the heads of state that apparently had to be there in order to ensure the authenticity of their wedding vows), however, it wouldn't have done well if her wedding was obscured by someone else's marriage. It was her big day, after all.

And it was only one month away.

In the cool light of morning, Krista bounced her way toward her room and changed her clothes with a definite spring in her step and extra glow in the apples of her cheeks. Brushing a comb through the quick-giving tangles of her blonde hair, she hummed happily to herself as she allowed the joy of her imminent vow to uphold Armin as her husband pressed wings on her heart and sent her flying.

Taking a short moment to stop by her nightstand, the petite woman paused as she gazed at a simple hair-clip that had once belonged to Ymir. It was a simple memento and memory of love lost. She had spent many hours drawing quivering digits over the plain details of the simple object, even allowing Armin to watch as she did so when they spoke in hushed tones in the dark confines of her room. Krista's smile softened into one of tender sadness as she lifted the familiar and gently time worn piece of happiness and let her fingers run over the same ridges that had once held the hair of the woman loved her so fiercely that she gave no thought than sacrificing herself in order to protect her.

"I may not be with you, Ymir…" She whispered as she let slim fingers caress over its smooth surface, "But I hope that with time, you will accept Armin…as much as I have."

Lifting the clip to her lips, Krista gently reminisced a time when she had felt the woman's lips over her own—if only for the fraction of a second—before placing the hair accessory back in its place and the young blonde woman turned and headed out her door toward the mess hall, bright countenance and happy sighs making her glow.

One month more… and everything will be utterly perfect.

* * *

Air burst through gently parted lips from the cover of a forearm. Eren's eyes studied the view before him with indecipherable expressions and gestures. If there was anything one could gather from his strange silence, it was that he was very carefully staring at the distant shapes of Captain Levi and Mikasa holding hands "out of sight."

One week since they have been matched and Eren had expected to see them kissing every chance they had whenever they bumped into each other during the day's work. Thankfully, they kept their public displays of affection almost non-existent… save the searing glances that made any room feel like it was being baked whole. The whole ordeal was as weird and awkward to him as it had been to getting the "talk" from Hanji once upon a time.

At the time, Hanji had been very straightforward. Delving into details and a bluntness that even if she had tried to throw analogies in her spiel would've brought a stronger embarrassment in the young shifter's stomach. Grisha Jaeger had been a doctor, for God's sake. Eren knew how babies were made (He'd even walked in on his parents on a couple of occasions in his youth—a memory that, to this day, still sends horrified shudders down his spine despite the many horrors he witnessed later on).

So, even though Eren had vainly attempted to tell Hanji his obvious knowledge of how sex works, Hanji brushed his arguments aside and settled on graphically explaining several aspects and reactions to the 'exercise,' much to Eren's horror (and eventual silent interest).

But this was different. Clearly.

Since Eren had discovered the couple kissing in the rain and watched them run off while hordes of soldiers cheered them on, there was little in his chest aside from an irritated confusion.

More because—once again—Mikasa had held another secret from him. It's not that Eren wanted to be privy to every single thing in her life, but they loved each other like family. They told each other practically everything. So for her to so carefully hide the fact she even had feelings for Levi…

Green eyes closing with a dejected surrender, Eren quickly swiped those thoughts from his mind.

He certainly had no right to talk.

_"Eren…" Mikasa had said softly several days ago, cheeks flushing with an embarrassed blush that made his insides itch. As it had been expected, she had showed up to talk to him about Levi. Armin had been kind enough to alert him of this coming event after the blond told him Mikasa had found out that Eren had seen her run off toward Levi's room just two days prior. Since their conversation on the roof, the young titan shifter had not seen the raven haired woman around and after a suggestive wink from Hanji, felt himself feel a bit nauseous at the thought of Levi doing some of the things Hanji had explained in extreme detail… to his sister._

_"You don't have to explain," He had urged, lifting his hands as he pulled himself off the ground and reached for the towel hanging on the nearest chair. Sweat soaked and gasping with effort from doing a fierce set of extended sit ups, Eren allowed his breath to slow before addressing the girl standing ahead of him._

_Mikasa shifted in her stance, hand rising to grasp at air around her neck. Without a word, they both realized the missing red fabric from her neck and idly wondered where it could be. Although, judging by the growing power of her blush, Eren didn't have to guess too hard where it was. "I'm sorry, Eren."_

_"Huh?" he exclaimed, cocking his head in confusion. "Why?"_

_"I should have told you…about Levi."_

_The itch in his gut intensified, even more so at the lack of title by his Captain's name. A flash of blue eyes and blonde hair played in the back of his mind, Eren looked away from her to stare at the ground in front of him. "And said what?" He asked, not out of malice. There was a real curiosity there. What would she had said to him? Hey, Eren. Forgot to mention but the Captain and I are madly in love with each other? Hey, Eren, I love Captain Levi and want to bear his babies? Hey, Eren, I'm sorry about all the crap that went down, but I want to be with Levi and do things to him in bed that only Hanji can explain to you?_

_…Probably not in those words…_

_Mikasa sighed, letting her hand drop from her collar to rest around her elbow. "I should've at least come clean about my feelings for him."_

_"Mikasa," Eren sighed before hoisting himself to his feet as he rubbed the towel over his sweat-stained neck. "Contrary to your beliefs, I don't actually have to know everything that's going on." Still, a warning would have been nice, though._

_"We promised to be honest to each other," she protested, lips quirking into a frown. For some strange reason, while Eren knew she meant that statement as a way to push excuse away, it felt like a jab. Against his better judgment, the memory of Annie's face now tormented the back of his eyelids and made him want to jump back into his exercise routine. So, he did._

_Pulling up to his tiptoes, Eren braced himself. "Yeah," he agreed uneasily, pushing himself forward to land on the ground with his hands. His arms took in the full of his weight before lifting and dropping back into a rapid set of push-ups. Mikasa said nothing as he exhaled sharp gusts of concentrated air, he could feel her eyes on him despite the silence. The burn of exertion in his muscles did very little to ease the tension of his own secret weight him down from his chest. When he finished, Eren pushed himself back up to his knees, gasping, "But that doesn't necessarily mean we need to tell each other everything."_

_"I know…" She murmured, shoulders curling upwards in an uncertain gesture. Pulling on a fast—albeit forced—smile, Eren bounced up to his feet._

_"Don't worry about it," He said, shrugging and moving past her, but not before gently lifting a fist to bop against her forehead. She smiled at that and with that the conversation dropped, as did Eren's smile because even now… he wasn't sure what else he could say._

Was he guilty he didn't come clean? Maybe. What did it matter anyway? Why does the thought of telling Mikasa that he had also fallen in love with someone drive such nervous needles to prick at his stomach?

_Because that someone is Annie._

_…Was… was Annie._

The reminder of the titan girl's expected demise sent a fierce blow of sadness to burn at his chest. The more he watched how Levi lifted Mikasa's hand to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles, the more it made the longing for the missing woman stretch his heart thin. How many times had he imagined himself waking up to a head of messy blonde locks and lazy blue eyes that turned piercing the more she gazed into his eyes? Far too many. Only the knowledge that no one knew where she was and if she was alive…

It was enough to press tight frustration against his throat.

Heaving another sigh, Eren pulled away from the stone rail and left his sister and his captain alone to their loving moment.

He didn't have to tell Mikasa right now. But he needed to tell someone… and the next best person he could think of right now was probably enjoying his new living space as Lance Corporal.

* * *

"You should stop."

There was the smallest smile that curled lips and Mikasa could feel herself begin to give. Levi's narrow eyes blinked open from their gentle rest, staring a challenge and a tease into her eyes that she wasn't sure how to handle in public.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, lips ghosting over the smooth ridges of her knuckles.

"…Someone could see." The protest was menial as it was weak, because even if her words were warning him to resume professionalism her body was taking a step closer to his.

He chuckled and a familiar thrill was sending zings to her core as his eyes flashed a curious gleam at her, "You should answer the question." His tone was as monotone as it would be if he were making the same demand to another soldier, but the smile had turned into a smirk that made her torn in deciding whether to punch him or kiss him senseless.

Again, Levi pressed his lips to her fingers, moving gently in reminiscent caresses that had her legs quivering. She recognized the movements. She recognized them intimately. One week ago, Mikasa had spent a night of tragic lovemaking that had made them ache for each other so voraciously that when they discovered they had been matched… the following sessions were much fiercer and definitely less heavy-hearted in every sense of the word. If she had to be honest, each night had been spent in such fantastically athletic late night reunions she wondered if she would ever go back to regular exercising without aching for his touch. The answer to that was, no. She would never ever want to go back.

Simply put, the one night they finally confessed their every thought and secret to each other had been so encompassing and unforgettable, the end result of their chemistry ended up in a lab explosion that would've left Hanji completely dumbstruck, hanging her lab coat and dedicating her life to botany because no other result would ever hope to satisfy. Of course, it didn't end there and, frankly, Mikasa found herself making newer discovers about herself with Levi than she would have with anyone else with a mental microscope. Like… the way he could make such bizarre noises leave her throat just by pressing those damn lips of him in just the right—

"No, I don't want you to stop." Mikasa breathed, eyes clouding as his other hand crept to grip her hip and pull her closer.

Levi's eyes narrowed with dark amusement, "That would be the day."

"You shouldn't tease…" She sighed, shivering when his hand slowly rose over the swell of her hip to glide to grip her lower back, her hands fluttering around the wrist that held the hand against his lips. Levi gave her the most minuscule shrug, deciding then to extend his teeth to scrape over her knuckle and leave her trembling.

"I get awfully bored looking over documents," He said simply, as if he wasn't tantalizing her with each graze of his teeth or press of his digits over familiar spots that his mouth had gotten acquainted with in the dark. Mikasa had to fight back the urge to slam him against the wall of the empty hallway they were currently 'hiding' within.

She smiled as she let her hands mimic his slowness and unbutton the cuff of his sleeve, tracing her fingers beneath the fabric and inching upwards. Her smile threatened to overtake her face when she saw row upon row of goosebumps rise on his skin, and his fingers were giving the tiniest twitches against her waist. "You've never been good with dealing with authority, have you?"

"I can when you're the one making demands."

Mikasa bit her lower lip and felt the blush on her cheeks deepen, "You're incorrigible."

"And you've been keeping me waiting long enough," Levi said after pressing another open mouthed kissed to the edge of her wrist before whispering, "Come here."

She was all too ready to comply, her eyes lingering on his lips as she began to lean in but they were terribly interrupted by the sound of running footsteps and the sound of the 3DMG canisters letting rip loud gusts of gas.

Startled, Mikasa sprang away from her commanding officer and fiancé, taking up a casual stance by his side. As the group of soldiers moved passed, shooting off in synchronized arrangements from out of the outer hallway's stretches and hardly paying them much attention, the two waiting in irritated silence. Well, irritated from Levi's angle.

When she blinked back over to smile at his expression, she nearly burst out laughing. As expected, Levi's face had fallen into one of severe irritation, scowling something fierce even though the hand he had used to grip Mikasa's hand against his lips still remained in its place. In the air, empty, bereft of her weight upon the hold. It was almost too comical to ignore.

"You alright, old man?" She teased.

"I can't catch a single break…" He grumbled beneath his breath before dropping his hand and suddenly turning to face her. "Don't 'old man' me, brat." He grunted, but was reaching back to grab her waist and pull her close again. "It's disrespectful to your commanding officer."

"I'm sure it's not enough to warrant a punishment," Mikasa grinned as he tilted his chin forward, lips barely grazing.

"Oh, but it is." He said simply, letting his lips slide past her cheek to nip at an earlobe before whispering jolts of electric heat in her ear, "You're becoming far too familiar with me, Mikasa."

"Levi…" It was meant to come out as a warning, that they were still capable of being caught. Only, it came out as a breathy moan when he found a sweet spot beneath her ear, right at the junction of her neck and shoulder. "N-not here."

"I can think of many reasons why here," He replied and he was rolling his hips against hers as he pushed her against the wall, her hands falling to grip the back of his head and shoulder. "One of them sounds a lot like—"

"C-captain Levi, sir!" Levi's shoulders tensed violently beneath her sudden grip of surprise. Peeling his lips away from her heated skin, the duo slowly turned blushing and violent glares respectively to the newest intrusion. It was a tall, light haired corporal judging by the tags on his lapels. His cheeks were flushing a bright red while his eyes remained carefully somewhere else.

" _What._ " Levi growled lowly and through his teeth—the equivalent of a dragon breathing a testy gust of flames through furious nostrils. Mikasa knew better than to tell him that, knowing that if he knew of the nickname the other soldiers dubbed him, he would use it shamelessly to harass every snot nosed cadet that dared look at him funny. Which was everyone at this point. Then again… he might decide to use that nickname in the cover of darkness… and that sounded plenty worth the risk of exposure.

"P-please excuse my intrusion, sir!" The corporal stammered, slamming a hand to his chest in a salute, his light brown eyes flicking back and forth from Levi still draped over Mikasa's form to the ground like a nervous butterfly. "B-but I am instructed to escort Senior Cadet Ackerman to the Commander's office."

"Like _fucking hell_ you are," Levi hissed, turning to fix the unfortunate soldier his most intimidating glower. Before the young man could properly piss himself, Mikasa pressed her hand in a gentle grip around her lover's shoulder.

"It's alright," Mikasa said softly, smiling into his eyes when he turned to raise an eyebrow at her. "You've got paperwork and Erwin needs to see me." Levi's lips parted to protest, which she silenced by flicking the lower one with a single digit. "Go on now, we'll finish later."

Visibly deflated, Levi sighed and nodded. Mikasa smiled wider at his acceptance and flounced out of his hold after pressing a promising kiss to the corner of his mouth that he eagerly chased after she pulled away. "Tell Erwin to assign that kid as far away from me as possible," the shorter man called, his eyebrows lowered back into an irritated scowl before addressing the still blushing soldier with an icy stare that would only be rivaled by an actual blizzard. "Be glad the senior cadet is more lenient than I am, Corporal. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been so lucky."

"Y-yes, sir," the young man said quickly before ambling off at a nervous strut, Mikasa following him after blinking lazily at Levi, to which he responded with a short sigh before he also turned and went on his way.

Several minutes of walking down hallways and the curiosity of this latest summons got the best of the raven haired woman. "Did the Commander specify as to why I am called?"

"He didn't give me any," the corporal replied, cautiously sending her a sideways glance she returned with a blank stare. Just as they were reaching the end of the Hallway that would lead to Erwin's office, the corporal suddenly cleared his throat, "Sorry, may I ask a question?"

Mikasa almost heaved a heavy sigh, nodding. This young man was still her superior in rank. Encouraged by her admission, the Corporal proceeded, "The Captain… he's not as bad as the rumors and tales say he is… right?"

At this, she almost smiled, "Oh no, not at all." The young soldier let out a light sigh, as if relieved. "He's worse."

Before the soldier could even flinch, Mikasa took a step closer and turned a dark intensity into his unsuspecting eyes. "But I am _much_ worse. Interrupt us again and I will rain a wrath far more horrible and terrible over your head than he could ever imagine. Understand?" As expected, the young man's face paled solidly before he sputtered and bobbed his head so fast he would probably end with whiplash.

"Good." She stated before stepping away and making her way away from him and down Erwin's hallway, smirking quietly to herself before lifting a hand to knock at the heavy door.

Upon hearing Erwin's voice admit her entrance, Mikasa quickly grabbed the knob and pushed her way in. The Commander was, without much surprise, behind his desk, looking over a file with what looked like a hooded expression. Before Mikasa could comment on the dark demeanor over his blue eyes, he blinked up and the expression was gone in a flash to be replaced by a small smile that—for him was practically a beam of contentment.

"Cadet Ackerman," He greeted, lifting a hand to wave her in. "Come in," he said, peering over her shoulder for a moment as she made to close the door. It was obvious by his sigh that the corporal was still rather beached where Mikasa last left him.

"I take it I should be transferring the Corporal away from Levi, right?" The Commander said after she bestowed him a firm salute, eyebrow raising. Mikasa gave the blond man a small smile of her own.

"Something like that."

Erwin's lips twitched, a sign he was just as amused as she was before he fixed his expression into one more suited for business and military matters. "I recently managed to get a message from the high Courts," he began, Mikasa tilted her chin curiously. "It's about your promotion."

Her dark eyes widened a small fraction, lips parting with surprise. "I'm being promoted?"

"Of course," the broad man nodded, lifting a hand to close the file splayed open on his desk. Mikasa glanced down at it mindlessly, frowning when she saw a picture of a familiar face, but not entirely sure what Erwin would be doing staring at it. "Your actions throughout the war have been enough to excel and even speed our efforts, ensuring our survival. Much is owed to the Woman worth a Hundred Soldiers."

Mikasa remained silent, not knowing much on what to say and so remained listening to her leader. Erwin pressed his arms down over the smooth surface of the desk, obscuring the red seal over the file with his palms as he gazed at her seriously. "My intention, Senior Cadet Ackerman, is to have you promoted to First Lieutenant."

At this, Mikasa let out a shocked series of stammers, "First Lieutenant, sir? But that's—I'm not…that's nearly _ten ranks_ above my—I can't…"

Erwin did not bat an eye, "You are an officer of extreme ability. While it has been shown that you still lack the ability to lead under pressure, you have shown exceptional capabilities, such as persistence, and an incalculable intuition in holding your own against a horde of Titans. While the humanity's predators have been extinguished as far as we know, there is much use for your abilities even now, Cadet. As of right now, we cannot afford having you in a rank that would hinder the use of those abilities."

He paused for a small moment, more to allow his words to register as the Senior Cadet still appeared a bit star struck. It seemed she could finally speak, breathing, "But, sir. I am only nineteen, my birthday is not until next year. To be a lieutenant at such a young age—"

"Would be historical, yes," He finished for her, but not appearing at all concerned over this matter. "However, it is not age that matters in this world," blue eyes flashed darkly, ramming what more protests she had against her throat. "But the ability to perform honorably for the sake of humanity."

Stunned, Mikasa swallowed, feeling her throat constrict tightly under Erwin's piercing stare. Finally, after a moment of silence, the Commander leaned forward, speaking gently, "Despite all I have said, Cadet Ackerman, you do have a choice in whether or not to accept this promotion."

The young woman nodded slowly, flexing her fingers open and closed at her sides as she considered her situation. "Like you said, Commander," She said, "My abilities to lead aren't exactly commendable."

"I do agree, your teamwork could use a little fine tuning," He said, but then his lips curled into an amused smirk, "But then again, so does the Captain's." _Good point._

"I will not assign you a squad as of right now. That must be tested in some other forms before I can entrust lives within your hands." He trailed off for a moment, eyes dimming with a distant look that made her chest twinge with an unknown emotion. "With the quagmire that is our government right now, it would be some time before I could actually send you off anywhere outside our walls…"

This did confuse the woman somewhat, "I thought we _were_ sending traveling expeditions outside the walls…"

"In a way, we are." Erwin replied. "But that is not to say the Monarchy has given us the complete pass to make some well funded ones. We've expanded in our territories, yes, and these past few months have been kind to us in colonizing and making sure that the public safety is ensured. However, we are also still rebuilding much of what has been destroyed. If we do not fortify our base before we expand, there is no doubt we would end up in a worse state within a few years."

"What are you saying, sir…" Mikasa frowned again, "Are you saying that humanity will still be confined to what's left of the walls?"

"For the time being, and under this rule," Erwin sighed, turning his gaze to look out the window of his study, the warm light of day filtered in pale contrasts the more autumn approached. "Yes. I am afraid that is to be the case for the next foreseeable future."

A firm scowl tipped her lips downward, yet despite her obvious distaste she knew she could not protest. It was unlikable, for sure, but as the Commander implied—it had to be necessary. She could only wonder how everything was back in Zhinganshina and not for the first time she wondered if she would be able to go back to that speck on the wall she had once called home. She knew the reasons why they remained in the castle HQ back within wall Maria. Since the Final Conflict, most of the rebuilding and retaking had been of lands just outside the wall and within the Capital. And after so many lives had been lost, the Monarchy made it a key point to keep the Military Factions and the Brass within close range—that goes without saying, under a strict and careful eye.

Even now, even after the Commander had been acquitted… did they still suspect him of assisting the Coup D'etat?

Suddenly, it made a lot more sense as to why they were being so kept under such firm leash…

"Going back to our main conversation," Mikasa blinked back to see Erwin facing her again, "I would like to know whether or not you would be interested in taking such a position of rank."

_Wait… she had to decide now?_ Tensing, the young woman blinked several times, feeling suddenly ambushed by his unwavering gaze. Glancing away, she began to consider everything that this change would entail. She would have to take on much more work than she had before, and while she was loath to submit to paperwork—seeing Levi filling reports alone had been enough to make her stomach queasy with dislike—she knew that with this position, she would be certain to be in more direct contact with her beloved and have more authority concerning the wellbeing of her brother.

Several tense seconds passed in silence as Mikasa thought to herself, feeling a surge of emotions before ending with surprise and finally flattered that the Commander of the 13th legion looked at her with such high esteem. There was no chance she could decline when there was so much at stake, according to him.

Nodding, Mikasa looked back up at her leader, determined. "I would be honored to accept this promotion, sir. So long as it is being offered to me."

Erwin gave her a firm nod and another small smile, "I am glad to hear it, Mikasa. I will be sure to inform you of any changes concerning this matter."

Feeling dismissed, Mikasa placed her fist against her chest in a final salute before turning and making for the door. "How are you and Levi, if you don't mind my asking?" Erwin's question made her pause mid-step.

Turning back around, she smiled wide and gratefully at the Aryan man, "We're doing really well, sir."

The Commander nodded at her once again, his smile broadening just a fraction, "Good to hear." With that said, Mikasa bowed slightly before opening the door and filed out of the room, not catching the way his smile fell and the bright gleam in his eyes gave to the darker shadow of a remorseful disposition.

"I just hope it lasts…" He murmured to himself long after she had gone, the comment falling on deaf silence and an even darker presence curling bitterness in his stomach.

* * *

"I'm not making you lunch."

"God, no. That's the last thing I want—Ow."

Sasha rolled her eyes before pulling her hand away from her boyfriend's and attempted to make an escape. As expected, Jean gave her no inch. Arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back behind the spacious tree that served as their current hiding spot. She had to bite down on her lips to keep from grinning when she saw the flash of false hurt in his expressive eyes.

"I would apologize, but we both remember your attempts at cooking. Plus, you just kicked me so…" Jean spoke as he nudged the collar of her shirt down with his chin.

"That damn memory will never die, will it?" She responded with an irritated grunt that faded to a sigh when he pressed his lips to the side of her neck. "You can kiss me all you want—"

"I intend to." Smooth bastard.

"—I'm still not having lunch with you." Despite her words, Jean's lips did not stop their travels to the juncture of her shoulder and neck. His tongue flicked out the instant he had found her soft spot at the base of her throat and just like that, Sasha had to curl her arms around his shoulders to keep from collapsing.

She could feel his smile against her skin and she resisted kicking him again for a second, "Well, perhaps we don't have to have lunch." The implication was dropped with delicious emphasis as he lifted his chin to catch her earlobe with his teeth.

"J-Jean…" She gasped and his hips were bucking against hers so delightfully she could not hold back the shuddering sigh to expel from her throat. "I c-can't. I have to turn in my report to Mo-Mobli— _Oh, sweet merciful Maria_ —so they can finish considering reassigning me back to your s-squa _…ah..._ "

"It can wait." He hummed as he began to lace kisses over her jawline. Sasha's chin dipped to catch his mouth between greedy teeth and the following kiss left them both leaning heavily against the trunk of the tree hiding them from open sight.

"It can't," Sasha sighed, smiling lazily when he pressed his forehead against hers. "Moblit approached me during breakfast and told me I had to have it turned in by noon."

"Well, maybe we can skip the rush to my room and…take care of business, promptly…here." The senior cadet smirked widely when she blinked those bright brown eyes wide against his lustful amber pair.

"Here?" She asked, looking rather scandalized with her parted lips and glowing cheeks. Jean held back a chuckle as she tossed her gaze to the sides, "No way. What if we get caught?"

"Makes it more exciting that way, doesn't it?"

"Please tell me you're joking."

His eyebrow quirked and his smirk pulled further back to tilt into the secret lopsided smile he saved just for her, just for special occasions. "Just picture it. Trying to muffle your screams and moans while I—"

"I'm not doing it out here, Jean." Sasha rolled her eyes, but pulled him down for a fierce kiss that he was certain made his hair curl. When she pulled away, she shook her head, auburn hair clinging to the corner of her lip and he pulled it away with a gentle tug. At that moment a pale yellow leaf fell from the canopy above them, landing over her bangs and the color was such a nice contrast that he was almost sad to pluck it away. She smiled up at him at the tender gesture and he had to fight back a blush and another urge to make her protests fall like the sighs she made whenever he pressed his lips against that spot on her neck.

It was easy to say their relationship was proceeding rather speedily. While it had been something of a rush, neither could say they weren't enjoying the ride. Sasha probably a bit more than Jean, now that he was returning her affections with more zeal and less mindless abandon. The incident with Major Freidhelm had left his face with a nasty bruise that was just recently beginning to fade—it had been such a violent purple and yellow. Even when they applied the generous ice, the poor man was left writhing in agony, much to Sasha's dismay.

"You're a freaking idiot, Kirschstein," Sasha had growled as she placed another bit of poultice to the massive face bruise, flicking the older forehead bruise with irritation. While that bruise no longer caused him pain, it was still tender and he responded with an undignified squawk that on any other circumstance would've left her howling with laughter. Sasha was too angry and guilty to laugh though, settling for gruffly fluffing the pillow beneath his head as he cradled the moist bag of herbs to his face.

"Oi, I thought we were past this," He protested, watching her through the dimming rays of sunset with a sad pout. Sasha only scowled in response before marching off to bring him more ice to lessen the swelling. When she arrived, he remained silent as he let her tend to his wounds, hissing and groaning when she was too rough. It wasn't until he had to make her stop because she was causing more pain than good that he reached for her hand and held it to his opposite cheek. "I know you're mad… but I don't regret doing it."

"I know," She blew a hard gust of air through her lips, but he could see her anger begin to give when he pressed a tentative kiss to her wrist. "Which is why you're such a magnificent idiot."

He couldn't help the small cocky smile at that, "So I'm magnificent, am I?"

"Ugh. Twat." She grunted, but leaned in nonetheless to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Several moments later, their kisses were frequent and heated, and before Jean could register, she was peeling off her jacket and lifting her shirt over her head in a shocking display of seduction.

"Sasha…?" He gasped. Breaths tightened in his throat when she turned quickly to lock the door of his room and sauntered back to slide over his—abruptly sensitive—lap.

"I don't like being indebted to idiots," She replied evenly, but to him it was the most seductive and sexiest thing she had ever said to him because she was suddenly unbuttoning his shirt and rocking those perfect hips against his.

That was the first night they were truly intimate, and while Jean still did not express anything more than deep care for her, Sasha was understanding and kissed him until they were both gasping and groaning into each other's lips. The movements were careful and slow, mindful of his injuries despite Jean's sighs and moans of wanting to go a bit harder, a bit faster. When she finally collapsed on top of him, she made sure to avoid jostling his cheek, only tenderly kissing the sensitive area and sighing when he curled warm arms around her naked waist.

"I do hope you realize that this debt is in no way repaid in full," He panted against her hair.

Sasha only chuckled and lifted herself over him to grin slyly against his lips, "Do you accept frequent payments?"

"I would accept nothing less," He had said sagely and the two were chuckling together before slowly falling asleep in each other's arms and tangled legs. Each night since then, Sasha joined Jean in his bed and the two allowed themselves to let go to the heat that was spreading aphrodisiacs in their bloodstream. Each time was more exciting, more meaningful than the last and Jean could slowly feel his heart open and accept every touch and kiss Sasha pressed against him with deeper fluttering and prolonged desire that lasted long after they finished in a tangle of limbs beneath his sheets.

It was still too early to know for certain…but Jean could admit that he wanted no one else at this point and that no one else could quite make him feel this way. Back to the present, He was loath to let her go, but he knew that if he didn't now, she would make him pay for it later.

Sighing, he pulled himself enough away to concede, "Alright, alright. We can finish later."

"Oh, I intend to finish you off later." She agreed with a lowered whisper, and with a sultry curl of her lips that sent a sharp zing through his body and the blood to pool against his pants.

Grinning, Jean gave her hips at playful tug, "You're becoming dangerous, Potato woman. I should put in my own letter of recommendation to the Commander. People should watch out." Resistance gone, Sasha fully kicked the tall soldier in the opposite shin, although with not enough force to cause pain. Still, that didn't stop him from yelping in false helplessness—apparently she loved tending to his injuries, be they real or obviously feigned. With a final drag of lips against his cheek, Sasha winked at him before quickly escaping his grabby hands.

"I'll see you later, _Kirschstein_." She called over her shoulder and he could only watch after her with an idiot smile on his face. He didn't know why, but he felt such a thrill whenever she called him by his last name, especially when she was moving her hips in such tantalizing sways. He was so caught in the sight of her leaving that he failed to notice the presence standing feet away, green eyes watching with catlike disinterest at the scene before them.

"Yeah, you absolutely had no idea what I was talking about."

Jean leaped five feet in the air, his heart ramming against his throat when he turned around to see none other than the short, green-eyed Li leaning against a nearby sapling. It's leaves were already turning a dark brown and orange, and if he were a different man with less committed eyes he would've probably noted how nice the autumn colors suited her.

"Oi! How long were you there?!" Jean barked, more because he was startled than the fact he got caught. Surprisingly enough, the fact that they did get caught like that didn't bother him when once upon a time it would have left him stammering for a lousy excuse.

"Long enough to be proven right," Li shrugged, green eyes staring at him with a bored stare. Honestly, it irked him. It was like looking at the female version of Captain Levi, or a freckled Annie… only she was definitely shorter and had tendencies to suddenly switch personalities (or so Connie had ranted).

Eyebrow twitching, Jean stared at her with growing irritation. "So when are you going to ask her?" she asked, lifting a fingernail to study under those flat green eyes of hers. He frowned, confused.

"Ask her what?"

"To marry you."

Stomach falling and face exploding into a bright blush, Jean nearly tripped over nothing. "To marry—what the hell are you going on abou—I'm not," she rolled her eyes at him and the simple act nearly made him fume. He was starting to understand why she was so easily able to get under Connie's skin.

"Well, you obviously aren't going to be turning in your survey soon, right?" She asked, pushing off from the trunk of her tree before making her way around him. "Better stop wasting time and confess your undying love pronto."

"Oh, and you know plenty about love, wouldn't you?!" He shouted at her retreating back.

"Plenty enough to know you've got a serious tent in your pants right now, and it's not because I'm pretty." She retorted without glancing back, hands in her pockets as she ambled off. Jean nearly gave chase to give her a piece of his mind, but was frozen by the simple shrewdness of her comment. Before he could help himself, he was glancing down at his pants and felt the blood rush in faster thrums against his cheeks when he witnessed the 'serious tent' in his pants.

He could only hope Li wasn't the type to hold on to little bits like this to gain favors from him later on. Despite all else, though, Jean couldn't help but let his mind fall back to her words and where he stood with Sasha. He knew he cared about her… but marriage?

No… it was much too soon for that sort of thing… besides, he had plenty of time before a decision needed to be made. No need to rush things unnecessarily, right? The sudden reminder that it had really been only a few weeks since he realized he had feelings for the girl before they ended up sleeping together suddenly played a weight against his chest, making him feel strangely giddy and even a bit uncertain.

"I'm so freaking screwed, aren't I," he grumbled as he tried to tuck himself firmly out of sight from any more prying eyes and less silent mouths.

Oh well… he had time.

There was still time.

* * *

_TBC  
_


	3. The Weight In Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.” ― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize because it seems like I skipped an entire chapter when uploading Nimbus here on AO3--which is this chapter. SO! For those of you completely confused and feeling like a chapter is missing... well... here you go. ^^;;
> 
> Inspired tracks are (in order of scenes): Itsuka and Itsuka Violin Guitar by Hiroyuki Sawano, Loftið verður skyndilega kalt by Olafur Arnalds, Harmony and Beaming Sunlight from the FullMetal Alchemist OST, and No Stone Unturned by Martin O’Donnel and Michael Salvatori from the Halo 3: ODST OST.

The second Li had stepped out the door , she had nearly collapsed to her knees. Face burning, legs shaking, she had half a mind to turn back around and kick her matched partner on his ass to satisfy the rage and the humiliation coursing violent surges of electricity through her shocked frame. The kiss had been unexpected, unplanned. Much like their patched up relationship was.  However, that was not the worst part.  Oh no. The worst part was how, despite her horror and tumult of emotions, the one that brought forth the most inner turmoil was the one that had enjoyed the entire motion of kissing Connie Springer .  How disgusting. 

Leaning against the door, the short soldier tried to ignore the ramming of her chest, craning her ears to see if she could eavesdrop through the wood and hear if Connie was crying or contemplating suicide. The memory of his lips against hers, the way his mouth felt around her tongue and how it tickled when he had moaned against her violent presses… Li felt her stomach sway and fall to her feet, making the flush in her cheeks brighten and the feeling in her chest grow tighter. 

“ Shit .” She hissed through her teeth, lifting a shaky hand to press against kiss stung lips before wiping the moistness still on them with her sleeve.  What… ??

“What the  hell …?” She heard him exhale, mirroring the very thoughts coursing her through her mind at the speed that could give the Dragon Captain a run for his money . With a vicious grunt, Li peeled hersel f off the door and stormed off. This was too much. She was playing with fate too much. She should have kept her distance, kept her mouth shut,  and watched her stupid temper . Only, once again, she allowed her frustrations and her anger take the wheel when she  knew  was more than capable of being under control. She allowed her emotions to pull him into a vicious kiss that should have been in no way instigated in a  million years.  And she enjoyed it. 

“Way to  fucking go, Li.” The auburn haired woman growled at herself, clenching her fists into tight balls as she moved away as  far, far away from as she could from Connie Springer. “You got angry and as usual you make stupid ass decisions. You  kissed him? Really? Why the hell did that even run through your head as a good idea , you stupid,  stupid, idiot  moron… ”

“WHOA—WHA?!?”

Li felt her stomach jump up from where it had been discarded by her rapidly stomping feet up to her throat. Whirling around, the young woman readied herself for an attack, ready to kick the person who startled her right into the next year. Instead of throwing a fist, Li could feel dread begin to collapse within her chest. A pair of shocked green eyes and auburn hair greeted her, standing several inches above her and gawping like a gutted fish.  Riza…oh no.

“Not now, little sister,” Li clicked her tongue, dropping her hands and whirling back around. This was exactly what she needed. First a kiss that was never meant to happen and then the last person that should’ve heard about this damned kiss happened to hear on it.  Dammit. Dammit.  It was bad enough she was trying to control the raging blush running over her cheeks and darkening hated freckles, now Li had to find a way to control her ramming heartbeat and appear as if nothing happened. Only now, she had to compose herself faster than she ever had to before because no w Riza was catching on and it was only a matter of time before the younger sibling began her attack. Another pair of footsteps stepped in stride beside her, matching her speed easily.  Shit , Li thought veno mously, cursing her shorter legs and wishing that genetics had been kinder to her.

While it was true Li would do anything for her sister’s safety and wellbeing, there were times that sibling contempt would skyrocket. This start ed before they joined the Corp. In their youth, Hanna Li would always be the doting older sister, ensuring that Riza would have what she needed and wanted. While their mother had always preferred the second sister to the older, Li didn’t mind the lack of attention. She preferred it. Had their mothe r doted on Li like she did Riza, and their youngest sister, Lidiya, there was no doubt in Li’s mind that she would have exploded at some point. 

Their familial situation was not completely odd, nor was it average. Li was the oldest of three and had to bear the burden of their father’s heavy expectations. It was obvious to the entire world that Yuri Dorinski had wanted a firstborn son, and when he got three daughters instead he made due with what he could. Hanna Li stopped being called ‘Hanna’ at home and was expected to do everything a faithful son could do. As if ignoring the gender that was her sex was enough to give him the son he desired, Li’s father never stopped training her and drilling her into being a good man, much to her mother’s silent chagrin. Li didn’t blame her mother for ignoring much of what was done by her father. He was a brute with a violent temper she hated to admit she inherited. It wasn’t until puberty hit that the reality of her gender seemed to finally hit home with her father, and much of what he had drilled into her from her early years seemed to fall apart. No longer was she expected to keep her hair short, and she was suddenly seeing dresses instead of tunics and trousers.  It was both frustrating as it was confusing. Her entire life, Li had been confined to the walls of her parents’ expectations, of the walls that constantly surrounded her, and Li knew was that her father was happiest when Li was gruff and boyish. When the opportunity to join the military rose, she took it without remorse and when she heard of what the Survey Corp did—exploring the lands outside the walls… it was the ultimate chance of escape.

Of course, Riza never really understood. She had always been allowed to wear ribbons and dresses while Li had been expected to learn how to hold her own in a fistfight. All the younger sister knew  was that Li needed to get more in touch with her feminine side—and if kissing boys was that gateway, then let the flood commence. Even if that did mean joining the military alongside her older sister. 

In all honesty, it had been a nightmare when she had received that letter from their mother. Olesya had never attempted to bond with Li, didn’t hug or kiss or anything she did with her other sisters aside from pat her head and call her ‘good child’ for protecting her sisters. Writing letters was the furthest thing her mother could do. So the whiplash that came when she read how her mother had always loved her and begged her to keep an eye out for her safety was only further pressed by a violent fear when Li was told Riza had chosen to enter the trainee years of the military. At that point, Li had already seen the violence and terror of what the Titans were. S he had narrowly escaped death on three occasions and all because she had chosen to remain frightfully angry instead of falling into the fear that succumbed and killed her comrades.  The last thing she wanted was for her little sister to deal with that kind of stress, see that kind of horror and lose sleep because the screams and the sights would refuse to escape aside the form of nightmares. Romance, love… there was literally no point to those things when one was trying to survive. 

That’s not to say Li hadn’t been subject to some of her fellow trainee’s affections. According to the boys in her squad, quite apparently, she was a knockout—or something like that. She wondered if it was because she had let her hair grow out, or if the years had been kind to her body despite how she abused it in training—because she had always been seen as a boy back home. Now, Li was not blind. She wasn’t exempt from puberty’s ministrations. Hormones were just as affecting on her as everyone else’s, she just chose to ignore them and focus on staying alive. This was only ever enforced in her heart when the boy she lost her first kiss to was brut ally stepped on by a 17-meter A berrant. Since then, anger and violence had been her only fuel, much to Riza’s insistence to ‘let love in.’

You could imagine the relief on her sister’s face when they made it out alive. Now that the titans were gone, the expectation for Li’s supposed inevitable acceptance of romance had risen to a point where it was close to unbearable. It was as if Riza had ignored all the years of Li being forced to fall under the harsh criteria of a man at arms instead of a woman, and was expecting her to just fall in love out of the blue. As if.  

And then this  stupid mandate happened… things were already complicated before… but it seemed the further walls were thrown down, the more the shackles of expectations tightened around her throat. And now, as Riza skipped with gleeful smugness beside her, Li could only feel the tightening constrict further around her chest—the reminder that she hadn’t told her she had turned in her survey, and ultimately being matched up, played heavily on the back of her mind. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Hanna Li,” Riza delved right in, long legs taking her strides further than L i’s could, giving her enough gait to peer ahead into her face. Pointedly turning her face away, Li tried to keep the acid from her throat from staining the taller girl’s face. “But did I just overhear you berating yourself for  kissing  some one?” 

“You heard wrong.” Li replied, keeping her stare fixed on the hallway ahead of her. Riza squealed, making the elder sister sigh out a tight groan . 

“Oh my  GOD .” Not for the first time did Li contemplate fratricide. Please just let it end.  “You did! You did, you did, you did,  you did!!” 

Turning on the point of her boot, Li forced a harsh glare over her sister’s face,  face burning red, “Riza, I swear to the almighty—,” 

The redhead did nothing to heed the other’s warnings, choosing to grin widely and with manic glee as she looped an arm through Li’s arm and yanked the shorter girl down to a quieter space. Arm practically dislodged from its socket, Li had no time to exclaim as the taller girl nearly sprinted toward a nearby bench. Before she could blink, they were slammed over the stone bench, Riza’s wide green gaze searching her own with inten t and bright curiosity.

“Who is this mystery boy and how did this kiss happen? Did you use tongue? Is he cute?”

“Riza, I will  kill you—,” the young girl quickly lifted a hand to silence her sister. 

“Not finished,”  Riza scolded, “How was it? Steamy? Did he kiss back? Did he shove you against a wall and make out like they do in  Confessions of a Trost Lady ?” 

“Confessions of wha--?” 

“The book, Hanna Li!” Riza waved a hand flippantly, “But that’s not the point. Is he tall? Not too tall, right? God knows you’d break your neck kissing someone more than five inches taller than you. Was it Alex? Did you kiss Alex? I mean, he’s pretty short but I can see you being able to kiss without much problems, although I always thought he was gay. Keeps staring at Fitz’s ass like it’s a parfait or something. Is he from your squad? Is he? Because after Geoffrey died , I thought you swore off all kind of romantic escapade with members of your squad”—at the mention of Li’s first kiss, Riza seemed to register enough human decency to backpedal, but not enough to quit rambling, “Wait, sorry, forget I mentioned him… ” 

“ Riza Alexandra ,” Li hissed, throwing a hand up to cover over the blabbering girl’s mouth. Glaring tightly at her sister’s wide eyed expression, the senior cadet pulled her close enough to make the threat clear, “Shut  up and listen. I didn’t kiss Alex, alright? I didn’t kiss anyone. You heard wrong.” At this, the young girl’s eyes rolled with obvious disagreement. Jerking her face away, Riza swatted Li’s hand away. 

“Alright then, if I heard wrong and you  didn’t kiss a boy, then why’s your mouth looking like it’s been half bitten off?” 

Li looked away, self consciously lifting a hand to press against her lips and another zing of nerves burst through her stomach at the memory of having Connie’s lips between her teeth.  “None of your business.”  She grumbled. 

The following expression that morphed Riza’s face Li had seen only twice in her life. The first time, when Riza turned seven and for her birthday Li had pulled in the basket of flowers and weaves of ribbon the girl had been eyeing for months through the door. It had cost her an entire three months of saving what money her father gave her and what she took from brats who picked on Lidiy a. The second time had been after Geoffrey had kissed her and when Riza had asked Li made the terrible mistake of telling her that whenever she saw him her chest got tight and she felt fuzzy headed. In that moment, Riza’s eyes widened into the size of huge green shiny gems that she could compare to the fancy jewels she had seen  behind glass stores in her youth. What followed was the sound of her lips pop ping open as her jaw dropped , and th e biggest intake of breath scratched against the young woman’s throat in a shocked wheeze of growing ecstatic delight. All in all, it was the biggest warning she had, but in all her years and both those times, Li had never been able to stop the following from happening. And this time would be no different. 

“ OH MY GOD!!! ” Riza shrieked, throwing her hands to her cheeks as she proceeded to bounce in her seat and let out a series of squeals and squeaks that hurt Li’s ears. 

Frantic and hugely embarrassed, Li threw her hands up to cover the source of the shrieking, ignoring the icky feeling of her sister’s moist mouth against her palms as she attempted to tame the storm before it got out of hand. “Are you out of your  mind ?!” Li hissed, jumping from her seat to secure her hold over her sister’s mouth. “People will hear you!” 

“MmMHHMM Y’MMHHMMM!!” Riza hummed loudly against her hand, grinning without re straint despite Li’s horrid mor tifaction. 

“What?” 

Tugging off Li’s hand from over her mouth, the auburn haired sibling squealed again before throwing her arms around her neck and pulling her in a tight hug that yanked the breath from Li’s throat with a sharp grunt. “You kissed a boy and you  liked it !  You actually did it! I’m so proud of you, Hanna Li! Sister dearest of mine!” Before Li could even register her sister’s hands on her shoulders, she was yanked off her body before seeing Riza press her face close to hers in an uncomfortable stare. 

“I can’t wait to finally write Lidi and tell her how her big sister is finally on her way to true love! Oh, this is wonderful!!” 

“Riza, Riza…  stop. ” Li sighed, grasping the girl’s hands firmly away from throwing her back into another bone crushing hug. Even as she pressed their joined hands on her lap, Riza continued to squirm happily , but seemed to finally find a place to hold her tongue. Which was a marvel in it of itself, because back then getting her to shut up was harde r than taking down a 20-meter A berrant alone. 

Looking into the matching green eyes, Li fixed the junior cadet with a stern glare, “I’ve been matched.” 

Like flipping a switch, or stomping off a flame, Riza’s joy fell apart. Smile falling and laughter ebbing away into some dark place within the pit that was Li’s chest, the taller girl fell deathly still. A long moment of silence followed, where Riza’s green gaze avidly searched Li’s dejected and thinly veiled angry one with something akin to disbelief and rejection. “…I don’t…” She breathed finally, uncertain. 

“I turned my survey in a month ago,” Li responded, keeping her voice carefully empty despite the bitterness curling in her chest and stomach. Instantly, the look of betrayal burst from the younger Dorinski’s eyes, jabbing a hard knife into Li’ s chest. Gaze falling, shoulders slumping, Riza said nothing and Li could faintly feel soft tremors take over her hands. 

“…He’s the one you kissed…?” Suddenly this wasn’t a victory. All too suddenly, Li realized exactly what this was for Riza. All this time people have been matched left and right, falling under what the government decided for them instead of discovering those things for themselves. All that time, Li had expressed a hateful distaste over it openly and without care about other people’s objections. 

“You’re her pillar of strength, you know.” Alex had told her long ago after they had returned from yet another botched expedition. Have his face was covered in still steaming blood from a titan he had felled. It was the same expedition that Li had almost seen her sister die. Had it not been for Fitz’s quick thinking, she would not be looking at the sleeping figure of her sister on the cart of the wounded, but quite possibly the remains of her corpse on the cart of the dead—if she had been lucky enough to have a body to bring back. It had been the first time Li had felt true fear paralyze her from head to toe. The image of Riza being squeezed within the manic grasp of a hungry titan would bring nightmares that would not fade easily with time. 

“Hardly,” Li had scoffed. “I don’t even talk to her all that much.” 

“You’re still her big sister, Li.” Alex sighed, turning gray eyes to pierce her through to her soul. “I don’t know why you don’t talk or why you ignore her… but when she talks of you, all she says is how she wishes she were as strong as you are.”

Back then, Li had failed to protect her from the titans, having been lucky enough to have someone else save Riza when she had frozen and watched, horror struck. Now, she failed her by giving in to the Monarchy’s mandate when all she had ever told Riza for the years they were both alive together was to never quit fighting. 

Turning in her survey had been Li’s way of throwing care to the wind and not giving a shit about the idiotic ideals of society. But to Riza… turning in her survey had been a simple resignation. 

The blow of realization made her skin grow violently cold, even more so when a sudden cold breeze pulled at their hair and clothes. 

That entire time… this entire time… Li ha d not thought of her sister, or how she would feel about this. Not once.

“…Yes.” Li sighed, “He’s the one I kissed.” 

For the space of several moments, both girls remained silent. Listening to the breeze as it breathed through the leaves of the trees around them, tearing off the weaker yellowed ones  and making them fall around them in a series of golden twirls and dips. All the while, Li would sneak small glances at her sister’s face, trying to discern the careful mask of contemplation over her usually expressive countenance. She hated to admit it, but there was a nervous tingle in her stomach the more she watched Riza’s eyes flick back and forth between their joined hands and the ground. It only occurred to Li then that this was also the first time she had ever held on to this sort of physical contact with her… when was the last time she actually hugged her?

It was strange, discovering how much Li had pushed her away over the years. They had been so close once…

“So you admit it then,” Riza’s voice broke her from her nostalgic reverie, confusing her. 

“Admit what?” Li asked, frowning. The frown easily melted away when Riza suddenly fixed her a mischievous peek of green eyes, lips curling into a satisfied grin. 

“You admit kissing a boy then.” 

Just like that, Li dropped the hold she had on Riza’s hand, feeling her face fall at the obvious trap Riza had pulled her in to get her to admit it.  Damn it.  When did she become so cunning?? “Dammit, Riza!” Li grunted, feeling disgusted. 

“Why?” the question surprised her enough to make the disdain fall apart in seconds. The smug look was gone from Riza’s face and her hand was reaching back to grab at Li’s fingers, shy and timid. “I had thought…” 

Li knew what she thought and it only made the previous bitterness of keeping such a secret and being such a let down come back to creep on the back her throat. But the question had actually brought up a serious issue. Why  did  she kiss him? 

“You are nothing.” She was only six when her father had spat that. “As a girl, you will be nothing. I will not allow a child of mine fall into such pathetic standards.”

“I am not nothing…”  She had chanted, pushing her way through the pains of torn muscle fibers and the dealing with the stunted pains of being forced to carry things no child should have to carry. If her father told her to push and pull at immense crates to become strong, then she would do it to prove it to him. “ I am not nothing.” 

“…I don’t know…”  Li breathed, fingers curling into fists as she recalled the memories that had assaulted her when she had Connie close to her gaze, feeling the coarseness of his lapels between clenched fists as he stared defiantly into her eyes. “I got angry…” 

This whole thing is such shit. 

“This whole thing is stupid,” Li growled, feeling her irritation and anger mount the more she dwelled on how she had allowed herself to be controlled all her life. “All of it, Riza. I’m so fucking angry about this whole shit. I had thought after the titans were gone… that we would all be free from fear, from walls and idiot ideals. But I have to give in… I have to because it’s expected of me. When I was with him, I thought it would be fun to just deal with it by poking his buttons. I don’t know why , but I’ve never wanted to piss off someone like that before…”  Why? Why are his emotions and his expressions so contagious to me? She didn’t realize she was ranting until she was off the bench and pacing in front of her silent sister, ignoring the surprised expression over Riza’s face as she moved and huffed. 

“But he made it so damn easy…he made me laugh...but he said something, he made me angry. I wasn’t thinking… I wanted to feel in control. So much of it is slipping and I… I don’t know.” 

“…Do you love him? ”

A short bark of laughter burst from Li’s lips before she could stop it. Turning to face Riza, Li shook her head, “ There’s no chance in hell I would. I only just met him a week and a half ago.  You’ve been reading too many romance novels, Riza.” 

The redheaded woman shrugged in response, “And you don’t read enough. Mock me if you want, but romance novels may present love as an idiotic thing, but there are truths there. Unmistakable truths and it seems like you’re well on your way to falling in love with this guy.” 

Li blanched, eyes crinkling as she  watched her with something akin to building exasperation. “Are you a woman or a soldier?” Li sighed loudly, crossing her arms and raising a brow. 

“Believe it or not , but you can be both,” Riza chuckled, the expression she gave her sister nearly made her falter in her condescending stare. The comment surprised her… as did the fact that it made her seem like she was older. For once, Riza didn’t quite look like the irritating little sister Li had grown accustomed to dealing with. “But whatever shall we do about Fitz?” the young sister wailed, throwing her hands to her face as she stood from the bench in a dramatic rise.

That didn’t last long. 

“What about him?”

Riza appraised her with another wide eyed stare, speaking slowly, “You know he’s been half in love with you for months now, right?” 

Li shrugged, more to keep quiet because even though Riza was pretty excellent at hiding her emotions when it was suited… Fitz was another touchy subject. “You should be more worried about yourself than me when it comes to Fitz, Riza.” 

She perked up, taking a cautionary step forward and failing to appear nonchalant. “Why? Has he said anything about me?” 

“If you’re so curious, go ask him.” Li sighed , turning to walk out of the small outside sitting area and  back into the hallways, Riza following at her heels. “Better yet, why don’t you confess  your undying love to him?” 

In retaliation, Riza gasped and reached over to grab at one of the straps of Li’s gear before tugging and letting the material snap against her skin loudly. Li yelped, turning to scowl at the taller girl. “Watch it, brat, I can still order you to do laps.” 

“You’d have to catch up to make me!” Riza exclaimed, sticking her tongue out before bursting into a sprint. “LI’S IN LOVE WITH A BO~OY!!” She sang out, screaming. 

Li gave a violent start, her face flushing a bright red before deciding quite quickly that her sister needed to shut up and she needed to shut up  now.  Bursting off into a sprint after her, Li planned her revenge all while hollering,  “RIZA, I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL MURDER YOU!!” 

 

* * *

Something in the air was different. An undertone of something…off…was making the air feel heavier, danker… stiff. At first, it had been blamed on the change of seasons. Autumn was only apparent in the change of colors and a lot of rainstorms. 

Moblit wasn’t the kind of man to take much notice in this sort of change, preferring to focus on the scientific and the escapades his squad leader often ended up leaving him in. While the years had been kind in keeping him alive, much of his emotions had already ran dry. It’s expected… when one lives the life of a soldier when times are so dark. To say it was surreal to be living now that the Titans were gone, was an understatement. He had grown up listening to the tales of his parent’s youth, of them living in peace within the walls while the horror remained. 

True, humanity allowed itself to grow ignorant of the monsters outside, but he liked to think that the spirit of it had woken when it was placed in danger. And it woke within the body of the young boy  everyone knows to be Eren Jaeger. In such short time, he had embodied the very hope that Humanity needed. In all his years, Moblit had never been so forced to adapt as quickly as Hanji demanded him to. It w as hard to place so much trust i n such and angry teenage boy—a boy barely scraping his way to adulthood and riding his motivation on revenge and the blood red memory of a mother who had died needlessly. So much blood stained what should have been raised in light. 

Moblit remembered his youth, he remembered it fondly. It was not the youth that this generations had suffered through, of war and bloodshed and picking up the remains of cities where they should’ve been playing and falling in love. No, his youth had been a relatively peaceful one. While the ever present danger of the Titans was still there, the walls provided sanctuary; they provided the hap piness his family had enjoyed on their farm and their home close to the main city by Karanes. It was only his curiosity and his desire to venture into undiscovered soil that lead him to join the Survey Corp. It had been a decision he had instantly regretted. 

Not long after he joined he had experienced a fear that the people within the walls would not taste until that fateful year when the Titans infiltrated.  Many times since, he had wanted to leave and join the Garrison instead—since his skill level was not high enough to merit a position in the Military Police. That was, until he met the one and only Hanji Zoe. 

How many times that woman scared him to death more than the very Titans themselves, Moblit had lost count. She was a force that could only be beat by that of Captain Levi’s—only the Dragon hadn’t joined the Military until a few years before the infiltration. He did not know much of her past or why she took such violent joy in slaughtering titans, and her avid bloodlust had frightened many in their day to the point that very few wanted to be placed in her team. Because, more often than not, she ended up driving them  toward the giants instead of away from them. 

What the soldier could say changed about her, helped change about himself. It had been the fascination, the drive to learn more, to discover more about the Titans that drew him closer to her assistance. Soon, his assignment as her second-in-command had become less of a terrible thing and more as an opportunity to help humanity in understanding their predator. It was a good thing too, because Moblit was pretty damn certain that if it wasn’t for him, Hanji Zoe would’ve gotten eaten by one of their captured titans long ago. 

All work and serious business aside, the two soldiers had gotten to know each other fairly well. The level of trust and companionship had grown to more than simple camaraderie and more into something he could compare to a familiar relationship. He had grown to care for the woman, even to the point that he had to find ways to hide signs of her and Erwin’s relationship over the years. It was one thing to secretly fool around with another soldier, it was another to have one that involved such a passionate love. 

Moblit knew that Hanji was quite taken with the Commander, and he found he was rather pleased when the Commander followed suit in returning said affections. So… when the mandate was passed… he was painstakingly aware of how terrible their break up had been. He had been there the day Hanji had taken the fertility examinations, he had been there to see the light leave her eyes when it came back negative every time. He had been there when he saw that because of this, she would be forced to watch Erwin be handed off to some other woman. 

Moblit had seen many things, encountered many sights and scenes that most people would not believe, but of all of them, it was the sight of seeing Hanji Zoe break down one evening in their lab and clutching to the only memento she had of Erwin, cry until she could not cry any more. 

Still, despite their closeness, Moblit knew his place. So he kept his distance and didn’t bring the topic up. Days passed, weeks faded and summer passed and slowly, he could see how Hanji was carefully building herself back up. The heartache had become bearable and their work and efforts had returned on overseeing Eren as he slept, ensuring he remained alive throughout his days in coma. 

In short, everything was slowly going back to a point that Moblit could call normal. 

Until he noticed something these past two weeks. 

Something that wasn’t quite right. 

Every day that had passed, Hanji had walked into their office with a beaming smile on her face and sighing as if the world had finally discovered something fantastic and beautiful. At first, Moblit had assumed it had been because Eren was awake and they could finally get more research in (and by God the woman was mad about it), but this was too much. She looked star struck, windswept, and  happy.  It shouldn’t have bothered him, but for some strange reason… it did. 

And he found out why. 

“Ah, Moblit!” The officer turned around, smiling lightly when he saw Keiji make his way from the latest caravan of correspondence. “Good seeing you,” The other soldier greeted, under his arm was the familiar packet of letters and scripts that had arrived for the week, even the latest issue of the MP newspaper was tucked under his arm. 

“New issue out, eh, Keiji?” Moblit chuckled, tucking his own notepad under his arm to clap the soldier around the shoulder. 

“I had to get myself a copy before they were all taken,” Keiji snickered in response, “I’ve just ran out of toilet paper so it helps to restock.”  The pair burst into jovial laughter, snickering at the amusing circumstance before settling in step toward the first office that needed their letters. 

“Odd weather, isn’t it?” Keiji asked as they walked around a corner, peering up at the blue and gray sky through one of the windows. 

“Hot or cold, sunny or rain,” Moblit sighed, “I do wish it would make up its mind.” 

“Doubtful,” the other man snorted before perking up, “Although I nearly forgot, these two letters arrived for the Commander.” He explained as he sorted through the mail and pulled out a thin white envelope and a smaller yellow one. Both had been stamped with the familiar red markings that placed them as Priority. “Marked as urgent. I have these other letters to deliver before taking up more correspondence up t here. Would you mind taking these one s up to him?” 

Moblit nodded, taking the envelopes from his comrade’s hand, “I’ ll be sure to take them over.” Keiji bobbed his head with an appreciative smile before the two exchanged farewells and parted ways. The dark haired man moved through the corridors with an easy gait, taking in his surroundings lightly as he strode toward the Commander’s office. As he walked, he took a moment to look over the letters in his  hands. One of them was marked with the obvious seal of High Courts, just the sight of it was enough to make bile rise to his throat and leave a nasty taste in his mouth. The other was sealed in the familiar curl of the shield of Roses—obviously bearing the sender from the Garrison. 

Curious, Moblit turned the second one over his hand, looking for any sign on its cover on what its contents could hold before he heard the steps of another body heading toward him. As was the instinct, Moblit glanced up and let his gaze narrow in a flat appraisal when he saw his superior, Hanji. The woman had her arms up, hands curled in the familiar stance of someone about to pull a prank on someone else. Honestly, this woman. Sure enough, the moment he looked up, she dropped her hands with bright disappointment. 

Moblit sighed, “What are you doing, Major?” 

“Aww, you weren’t supposed to look up, Moblit!” She groaned loudly. “You’re no fun at all.”

“It’s not in my job description to be fun, sir.” He replied, rolling his eyes but not without amusement. Hanji shrugged, but let the subject of her most recent botched attempt to frighten him drop. Instead, she noticed the mail in his hands with a raised brow. 

“Mail for Erwin?” She had noticed the seal of the High Courts, her nose wrinkling with clear disdain and irritation. Moblit bobbed his head, placing the second letter back over the first within Hanji’s sight. 

“Not just from the MP’s,” he explained, not bothering to hide the shield of the Garrison. At this, her curiosity peaked , although her lips flattened in silent contemplation. Without a word she reached over and plucked the letters out of his hands. Moblit let her, he knew better than to get in the way of Hanji when she wanted something. 

“What would Pixis want this time around?” She muttered, frowning as she turned the envelopes in her hands much like Moblit had just moments prior. 

“They’re marked as urgent,” Moblit admitted, even though he was certain she could see the stamps on their slim surfaces. “I should hurry and get these over to him.” 

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Hanji waved him off, not bothering to look at him as she spoke. Quickly and before Moblit could register, the woman was tug ging her index finger under the paper and yanking upwards, breaking the seal of both letters easily. The officer gasped in shock, reaching over to grab the letters back from her, but she was already pulling away, nonchalant. 

“Major!” Moblit exclaimed before lowering his voice, looking rather scanda lized as Hanji opened the envelope of the High Courts and pulled out its contents. “That’s not for our eyes to see!” 

“Take a breather, Moblit,” Hanji rolled her eyes, smirking at his expense. “The Commander won’t mind. He probably would call me in anyway to talk about the contents in these envelopes. I’m just saving him the trouble of sending a cadet to find me.” 

The brunet man glanced around anyway, feeling strangely paranoid and keeping an eye out for any other wandering soldiers as Hanji proceeded to read over the documents. “Even so…” He began , shutting up when his superior made a short shushing sound escape through her teeth. Sighing, he relented and watched her expression as she read. 

Sure enough, he could see her lip begin to curl with irritation and thinly veiled exasperation. “Fucking great,” She grunted, breathing sharply through her teeth as she skimmed the rest of the information. 

“…What is it?” Moblit asked, peering over her shoulder to look over the information. 

“ The High Courts are going to be sending Military Policemen over this next week, no doubt to harass the shit out of us and make sure the announced wedding plans for Armin and Historia are ‘legitimate’ or some bullshit like that.” Hanji bit out, a small spray of spittle flew from her mouth as she swore, falling over the document and leaving little marks. Moblit didn’t say anything. Normally, he’d warn the major to be careful with such important correspondence, but the news alone was enough to make him keep quiet. He shared in her irritation, shared in the anger that was taking over a good portion of the people for being forced to be matched up for the Monarchy’s convenience. He had seen enough people have to deal with this stressful situation and it was all that plus Hanji’s own predicament that kept him from filling in his own survey. 

“The wedding is not until the week after this upcoming week, right?” Moblit asked. Hanji nodded, sighing again, only this time it was through her nose, so no spittle this time. 

“…What day is it, Moblit?” the question surprised him. 

“Oh, uh… Friday… sir…” He replied. She only nodded at him once more, spectacled gaze fixed on the documents in her hands.

“Pretentious bastards…” She huffed before tossing the documents back in its envelope and pulling out the one from the Garrison. Moblit pulled away, knowing full well that the information in there could be very well above his pay grade and he wasn’t too enthused into reading into something further that wasn’t his business.  He had already stuck his nose in something that wasn’t his business already.  Only this time, he found himself regretting doing that. Slowly, he watched how her face darkened into a confused scowl before slowly morphing into an expression of dread and finally horrified surprise. 

“Eh… Major?” Moblit asked, frowning as he saw her hands begin to tremble. He jumped when he saw the envelope of the High Courts  fall from her shaking grip. Dropping to  his  knees, he quickly began to gather the documents that spewed out when the thin packet fell to the ground , but stopped immediately when he heard a strange sound escape from Hanji’ s throat. It sounded an awful lot like a choked sob. 

“Major Hanji…?” he questioned again, hands grabbing all the information and pushing it back in its envelope as he straightened up. His chest began to tighten when he saw the flat expression over Hanji’s usually bright face, and all too quickly it reminded him of those days after she had been left to pick up the pieces of what remained of her and Erwin’s relationship. Her hands were holding on tightly to the papers in her hands, brown eyes jumping from the top of the page all the way down, as if assuring herself what she was reading was correct. 

Finally, after a moment of death-like silence, she quietly adjusted the papers in her hands, tugged them back within the envelope and placed her thumb over the seal shaped like a rose. 

“I’ll take this to Erwin, Moblit.” She said, voice falling into a terrifying monotone that sent fierce alarms to go off in his head. Gone was the previous amusement and light from her eyes, all that remained was the storm behind her brown gaze.

“…Ah, sir. I’m not sure that’s a good idea—“ 

Hanji’s voiced turned cold, “That’s an order, Deputy.” 

Hesitant, Moblit acquiesced and handed the other envelope over to the woman’s extended hand. Fingers curling over the slim surface, she gave him a simple nod before quickly turning and walking off, leavi ng the man to contemplate her actions in silence. 

It didn’t take him long to guess. It took him less time to confirm it in his mind. With all the evidence, and all the signs and all the little details that had tickled at his mind over these past few days, Moblit quickly put all the pieces together. 

The first piece didn’t shock him but did leave him feeling largely anxious; it was obvious, Hanji had begun sleeping with the Commander again. For what reason, that, Moblit still didn’t know. 

The second was clear; this letter had affected her very much like the discovery of her barren future held. Which promptly alerted him to the final piece; Erwin, and it is very likely, had already filled out and turned in his survey—whether Hanji knew about this or not, Moblit was not sure—and this letter confirmed that not only had he filled out his survey but that this was news about his match.  But why would that information be coming from the Garrison? Unless…

Whatever this meant for Hanji, Moblit knew, would only lead to a harder falling out than had occurred before… only this time, he wasn’t sure how much more his Squad Leader would be able to handle. 

“…Shit…” He hissed before deciding quite fervently to start walking in the direction Hanji had disappeared off to. 

He was not sure how bad the situation was, that much Moblit was still in the dark, but what he did know was that his leader was going to need him. 

He would sooner walk into the mouth of a Titan than let her down. 

 

* * *

It all seemed to make perfect sense now. 

Breathe. Inhale, exhale. Don’t break down. Be strong.

Why every night this past week had felt different… anxious. Wrong. 

Keep it together. Remember to breathe. 

The nights and days that had followed that first storm, when Erwin had so openly and lovingly confessed his feelings to her, had been nirvana. Each night he had taken her in his bed, basked in sweet caresses and gentle whispers that promised to love her deeply and profoundly, even after it was all over. Their union had been of the kind that both sated and left her feeling restless in many ways. Sated in mind, body, and spirit. Restless, because she wanted to make it last but knowing full well their expiration date was fast approaching. 

Don’t break down. Inhale, exhale. Breathe. Keep walking.

She had believed him. She had believed him so truly when the date of the match was supposed to arrive and he only denied its arrival.  “You know I would never lie to you, right?” Did he not whisper those same words in her ears in the comfort of their sheets? Did he not value that promise? Or had it just been a way to silence her doubts and worries while he kept this vicious secret from her, and proceeded to lead her on when they should have ended? 

“I love you. That is what matters to me.”

Her legs felt like lead, lungs threatening to collapse benea th the weight of this new development. Hanji had once believed she would be able to detach herself emotionally from precarious circumstances because that’s all she had been able to do when it was demanded of her. But this… this played too close to the heart. No matter how hard she tried, she knew that she could not detach herself from her own  heart, lest she allowed herself to truly die and she had promised him to stay alive. She had promised. She kept her promises… did he not value their promises enough to keep them? 

To the Commander of the 13 th Legion of the Survey Corp,    
Erwin Smith,

The letters in her hands burned her. She wanted to burn them. She wanted to pretend that time wasn’t up, that Erwin hadn’t decided to be so selfish that he would lie to her just to keep her close… 

Given the present circumstances, I would find it prudent to write you on this occasion. It has been a week since I received my verdict concerning the mandate enforced by the Monarchy. In t hat time, while it is comprehens ible our communication has not begun due to our distance, I do believe there  must be a point where there we must face toward  this present  reali ty.

Hanji knew this would happen, knew t hat their time had been spent and even overextended. She knew that Erwin was not hers anymore, no matter how many times he pledged his heart and loyalty to her… on paper he was not hers and would not be.  In this day and age, paper was more important. Paper took prestige.

Hanji knew. Because when one is a soldier, one is expected to bend to the powers of paper and orders and cast aside the matters of the heart.  For the greater good.

Damn the greater good.

She inhaled, then exhaled, but could not stop the feeling of agony, the torrent of violent emotions threatening to overwhelm her. This was a flood she could not stop.  It’s over, Zoe. It’s over. 

How could something ever end when it never truly began?

She had to move. She had to get out of here. With a swift turn, Hanji changed course and rushed as fast as she could without raising alarm toward a dark corner somewhere. Faces passed without so much as a glance, and for that the woman was grateful, even more so when she had managed to find a dark little hallway quick enough to retreat within.  Breathe. Inhale, exhale. Almost there. 

I am not entirely certain, personally, on how one should approach this sort of thing. I speak frankly, I have been expected to resign my freedoms to join with yours. It is expected. In a sense, we all know what we were getting ourselves into when we turned in our surveys. I had expected different results as I’m sure you have as well. That is to say, you have received your end of our match. 

The words. Those treacherous words. How could such simple words drive such horrid knives into her stomach? In the rush to escape, Hanji stumbled. Foot striking an uneven stone in the ground ahead of her and before she could attempt to stop, she fell to her knees. The force of her fall ripped her glasses clean from behind her ears to clatter against the ground, the documents fell from her trembling grasp to slap against the stone. 

I have been assured that you have, and although your silence is understandable, it is also slightly disconcerting. Then again, this is no easy thing to face. I have to constantly remind myself that we are still human, even after facing such terrible ordeals. Our survival alone does not constitute our invincibility, but apparently it does cons t itute our necessity to breed. Nevertheless, I write you not only to  share words with you, but news as well. 

The tears are escaping without end, forcing their way out her eyes and yanking tight hiccups from a chest that was too tight with too many burdens. The ground is cold around her, scratching without mercy at her palms and biting into her skin as she broke down. Hanji had hoped…so foolishly hoped when she knew this world was too cruel to listen to such tender pleadings. 

I have been in contact with my superior officers and even with Commander Pixis. It has been agreed that our inevitable meeting must be done with my take off from my post. Yours is a position that requires much attention where you are, and so, it has been decided that I must come to you. 

Each stroke of ink on that paper was a reminder of Hanji’s true place. No matter how much she wished it would not be… it was not beside Erwin. Body shaking, Hanji collapsed to her side, curling into a tiny ball as she allowed herself the capacity to feel so heavily the nature of this emotional betrayal.  Why didn’t you just tell me…? Another sob wracked through her frame, hair pressed over her eyes, sticking to her tear stained cheeks and clinging to the corners of her parted lips as she fought the urge to wail.  Why didn’t you just tell me…? We could have faced this together… we could have found out together… why…?

This world is cruel. 

I will be making my journey to the Survey Corp Castle this upcoming week. I cannot give you a specific date, for I do not even know when my arrival shall be. Commander Pixis said you are a good man. That I have been lucky to be matched to a man of your caliber. It is probably too early to make such statements… but I trust the Commander’s words. I cannot speak for myself in this instance. I am not the kind of woman to pay attention to this sort of nature and, therefore, I cannot tell you if you will find me agreeable. 

She didn’t know why, but as she cried all she could think of was how Erwin had once pressed such feather soft kisses against her nape to wake her. The reality that she would never feel such gentle and loving caresses from him again tore through her chest.  He’s not mine anymore. He never was. 

Even so, I suppose all judgments shall be made when we finally meet under these present circumstances. I will bring along some information the Commander asked me to bring. I hope this letter has found you well… 

In the dark of this little hallway, in this little corner hidden from sight, Hanji Zoe allowed herself to be so brokenly human. 

I look forward to hearing from you. 

In the dark of this little corner, Hanji cursed her own foolishness. She cursed her agony, her heart and the burden of knowing that she had let this happen. In the dark of this hidden space, Hanji cried until she could cry no more. When she had laid within its shadows long enough, she stood, picked up her discarded glasses  and composed herself before grabbing at the envelopes and finally made her way out of her hiding place. 

When Hanji emerged, she was staring straight ahead and her shoulders were squared. There was a dark gleam of defiance in her gaze and a firmness in the grip of her hands. She would deliver the letters. 

She would ensure Erwin got them, personally. 

Rico Brezenska   
Squad Leader of the 1 st Division of the Elite Force    
of the Garrison

Time was up.

 

* * *

“Hey, Eren.” Armin said softly, gasping as he leaned his hands against his knees. The young titan shifter was just several steps ahead, bouncing on his heels to keep his muscles warm.  Over the past few days, Eren met up with Armin as frequently as the new Lance Corporal’s schedule allowed him, mainly because the wedding was fast approaching and as needed, Armin needed much of Eren’s advice when it came to putting things together. A little fact that confused the titan shifter, because, honestly, what could he put to offer? He didn’t know how to set up a party, much less help give advice about wedding things. Nevertheless, Armin kept Eren in the loop, talking to him animatedly about some of the things he had learned when he had delved into his investigations concerning the kind of event. 

Despite his lack of expertise and even knowledge, Eren didn’t mind at all. One could even say, the young shifter enjoyed much of the time he spent with Armin. Their conversations soon became highlights of his day and made dealing with silence and the tense atmosphere that came when Eren entered a room filled with other soldiers more bearable . Even dining with their friends felt different… but that was probably because, more than ever, everyone was truly concerned about their own fates rather than humanity’s alone. It was nice and desperately appreciated… the fact that Armin would still be the sort of person who still saw the boy of their youth, rather than the monster he could become. 

Soon, Eren found himself solely in the company of Armin’s. They  had started sharing their training time,  staying fit in each other’s presence when their schedules coincided—which was almost always because while Eren was still a soldier of the Corp, he hardly had been given much to do since he had woken (a little fact that had made Captain Levi only pour more chores over his head, much to his chagrin).  Each time reminding him of their days spent running through the streets of Shiganshina, and the nostalgia was nice enough to make each outing pleasant.  So when Armin got out of filling documents and following with inspections of Cadet Squadrons and equipment, they would change into simple sweat clothes and go for a run around the castle and through its woods. 

“What now, Armin?” the brunet called, grinning despite rosy cheeks and sounded a bit winded. “You need another break? I’m starting to wonder who was really in a coma for the past four months.” 

“Shut up,” Armin retorted, but grinned nonetheless in response. “I’ll have you know I can run circles around you, Jaeger.” 

“Bring it on, Arlert,” Eren laughed, waving a hand in a challenging gesture. Armin chuckled, dropping his head as he proceeded to pant through sweaty lips. 

A few seconds passed as a breeze blew over them, casting their heated skin with its cool caresses and they both inhaled deeply in unison at the fresh temperature. Armin straightened with a soft bounce of his feet, but lifted a hand in pause toward his friend—who was more than ready to keep running. “Hold on, Eren, I wanna ask you something.” 

“I’m not giving you a head start, Arm.” He teased, placing tan hands on his hips. 

“Not that, you suicidal moron,” Armin rolled his eyes before quickly spitting to the side, running his tongue through his teeth. “It’s about the wedding.” At t he mention of the grand, moment ous occasion, Eren lifted a brow and tilted his chin, curious. “As you know we’ve been pretty busy getting the whole thing together. Deciding on flowers and what flavor the cake will be—oh shut up.”

Eren blinked in alarm, “I didn’t say anything!”

“—yeah, well you were thinking it. Don’t think I don’t know your face, Eren. You were laughing at me.” Armin grunted, yet his eyes were narrowed in the obvious glint of amusement and Eren could only chuckle in response. 

“Get on with it, Armin, what do you want to ask?”

The amusement seemed to fall and suddenly the young soldier dropped his chin again before running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had picked up soon after he allowed his hair to grow from the iconic bob.  Eren watched him, growing more curious the more he watched his childhood friend pick at words with a timid approach. 

“Well, the thing is… there are certain traditions that must be upheld in a wedding, you see. Like the Polterabend, for instance.” 

Eren quickly interjected at the mention of the party before the wedding, “Wait, you’re doing the Polterabend? I didn’t think the Corp had enough porcelain to shatter for the night.” 

“It helps to have the Merchants’ Guild on our side for those sort of things,” Armin replied, grinning a toothy grin Eren quickly found contagious.  After years of being harassed and even used by the Merchants, it was nice to be able to have a reason to mess with them. No doubt the Polterabend would make many of them writhe with irritation.

“Awesome,” Eren laughed.  “I’ll be sure to shatter as many plates as I can.”

Armin nodded before moving on, “ Anyway, there’s a tradition that my grandfather had told me once when I asked him about my parents and their wedding day and it’s something I want to follow.” 

The brunet nodded slowly, sensing that this was a serious topic and judging by Armin’s fidgeting, he had a feeling it had to do with himself. It took a moment of Armin playing with the edge of his sleeves before Eren could feel himself growing impatient, “Well, what  is it ?” 

“R-right… well.” Armin stammered before clearing his throat. “You’ve been my friend since we were children, Eren. I’ve really grown to admire you and hold your opinion of myself quite high. Essentially, you’re important to me. As is Mikasa, but you’ve really been there for me and the two of you have helped me overcome a lot to where I am right now. In fact, the fact I even had the courage to ask Historia to marry me, I owe a lot to what the two of you have done.” 

There were very few times in his life that Eren had ever started feeling emotional. Seeing his friends become his family, seeing Mikasa smile happily at Levi’s side… those were some of the times he could honestly say he felt a stirring in his chest, and right now, he was starting to feel it. Finally, Armin turned his blue gaze right directly into his own, firm and determined and making Eren nearly take a step back with how impressive it all was. 

“Eren, it would honor me if you accepted the role as my best man… at my wedding.”  He said, quickly pulling his body into the strict stance of a soldier at ready. 

Eren was stunned, blinking wide green eyes as he registered Armin’s words and even what it implied. He had known for several years how much Armin had meant to him, had meant to both him and Mikasa. When you had to break it down, it was both him and Mikasa that had become the core of his family, the very lifeblood and reason for his existence. Both had supported him without complaint throughout his entire life, choosing to stand by him when all others looked away. Their loyalty, Eren would never dare question and the fact that even now Armin—despite growing up and falling in love with Historia—still looked to him with such high respect… 

Eren quickly looked away, turning his eyes over to the sky to push back the strange prickle that threaten to tear in his eyes and make him into a blubbering fool in front of his friend. Coughing loudly, the young dark haired man took in a shuddering breath, holding back the rising urge in his throat to sob. 

A few moments passed as Eren composed himself before deciding he still had to give his friend an answer. Nodding resolutely, he turned back into Armin’s expectant gaze before marching u p the blonde and pulling him  into a tight embrace. The blonde man let out a startled gasp, one that shuddered when Eren slammed his hand over his back several times in a brotherly gesture. Eren took that time, now that his face was thoroughly obscured, to wipe at any runaway tears that had managed to escape his stronghold and when he was certain he was ready to look his brother in the eyes, he pulled away. 

“I would be honored to be your best man, Armin.” 

To his ever growing shock, Armin was already crying. Big tears the size of lemons fell down the Lance Corporal’s face as he grinned a watery smile.  Eren nearly burst out laughing, it didn’t matter how the years had changed them both—Armin was still going to be the teary eyed boy that had followed him into war without a second thought. 

“Th-Thank you, Eren.” He wept, lifting an arm to clasp over Eren’s shoulder and dammit it made big tears start falling from his eyes too. “I’m g —g rateful for your friendship.” 

“S-Stop it, Arm,” Eren grunted, but the tears kept coming and he could do nothing but let out a tight wheeze when Armin took a big step back against his torso, squeezing him hard as they both continued to cry over something as dumb as a wedding tradition.  After a few moments, Erin finally pushed the  blond man away, clearing his throat several times and wiping at his face furiously with a sleeve while Armin sniffed back his emotions. 

“Ahem,” Eren cleared his throat again, tugging at his tunic  as Armin rubbed his sleeve under his nose. For a moment they stood wiping at their faces before turning and beginning to walk down the path ahead. Silence followed until Eren’s face curled with mock disgust. “Oh. Wait. Does this mean I’m making a speech?” 

“Yes and it better be damn good,” Armin said, completely serious. “You’re lucky I’m giving you this much time to work on it, I want you to make Historia cry.” 

Eren laughed again, “That won’t be hard, she’s almost as emotional as you are.” 

“I wasn’t the only one crying just now, you twit.” Armin snorted, throwing a hand up to smack the taller man in the arm. “At least know that I’ll return the favor on your wedding day.” The two shared another laugh that fell quicker than Armin had expected. Sure enough, when Armin turned to face his friend he caught the tense expression marring Eren’s face. “Eren…?”

The young man’s lips curled upwards into a grim smile that didn’t last long at all.  Another breeze pushed against them, ruffling Eren’s dark hair and pushing it over his face and obscuring his green eyes. Armin frowned, sniffing the last of the previous tears away. 

“ It’s a nice gesture, and I appreciated it…” He trailed off before heaving a slow sigh and turning his chin to face the sky, “But,  I can’t be allowed to marry, Armin.” 

A sound like someone punching him in the gut escaped passed the blond’s lips, rendering him mute and staring wide eyed at the titan shifter.  For a while neither spoke and wouldn’t speak for a while after, all manner of good joy seemed to have faded along with the bright sunlight as it was obscured by a dark gray cloud. 

“…What?” the question fell from  Krista ’ s lips later that night as Armin recounted the events to her as they were getting ready for bed. The petite blonde woman had fallen deathly silent by his side, covered in only one of his nightshirts and a pair of his boxers. It would’ve been rather the exciting sight for him, and it shou ld have been because it was the first time  she had greeted him  like that  when he returned to his room after he concluded his work. Instead of jumping in bed with her to tickle her for being such a tease before their wedding, he could only smile warmly at her—which surprised her and led her to approach him with a soft murmur and hold on his face. 

“What’s wrong…?” She had asked him, her big eyes searching his solemn gaze by his side on the bed. Before long Armin was explaining his conversation with Eren, and soon her big blue eyes had gone wide with terrible and sympathetic sadness. Armin sighed rubbing a hand over his face soon after he tugged his shirt over his head. 

“ According to Hanji…”

“…The Monarchy can’t trust my existence. As far as they know, I am the last titan shifter alive.” Eren stated, fingers yanking at long stalks of green grass heatedly, even while his voice remained carefully passive and empty. “In my blood runs the last of the titan genes. They’re afraid that if I get married and have kids, I’ll pass that down. The dangers of the Titans rising again rest completely within my blood.” 

“How terrible…”  Krista  murmured, biting on her lower lip and reaching to press a hand over the fist Armin had over the sheets. “But…there has to be some other way, right?” She asked, expression of hope falling faster than a shooting star when Armin shook his head. 

“I am the last of the Titans, Armin.” Eren faced away, and Armin could feel his own anger begin to mount. 

“It’s cruel…” He said, scowling. “He helped save humanity using the very power they now condemn…” 

“…and because of that, I have no choice but to live the rest of my years alone. And die alone.” 

“Not alone,” Armin had exclaimed. “You’ve got us, remember? You’re still human to us, Eren.” 

Eren let out a soft gust of air through his nose, smiling a wry grin before it, too, faded. “It’s a nice sentiment… But to them, I’m not. And to them I never will be… so long as this power resides inside of me.” Green eyes looked back up to stare into Armin’s with an expression that nearly caved him. He had never seen him look so defeated. “ You and Mikasa…and the rest of Captain Levi’s squad may see me as human… but I will always be the monster people hate and fear.” 

“…What did you say?” Krista whispered after Armin fell silent, her hands were slowly running through the locks of his hair. Slender fingers brushed through the golden mane of his hair, gently pulling apart tangles and pushing them from his face as he stared at the ceiling. 

“Nothing…” Armin admitted and his eyes closed in shame. “I said nothing.” 

The silence that followed was heavy and hard, yet Krista gently curled against his side and while the burden continued to weigh heavily against his own chest, her presence was calming and soothing as she co ntinued to memorize the contours of his body before falling asleep. While it was enough to stir his chest into something warm, the pit of his stomach grew at the reminder that Eren would not be able to experience these tender mercies, all because the government failed to see the man… instead of the monster. 

 

* * *

“You ready?” 

“Are  you ready? Because if this goes through I’ll be that much closer to being you’re equal.” 

Steel blue narrow eyes rolled as Levi reached over to tug on his  fiancé ’s jacket. Mikasa grinned at him, watching him as he adjusted her clothes enough for her to look presentable. It had been nearly two full and a half weeks since they became engaged and just a few nights since Mikasa had told Levi of her impending promotion. Not for the first time did she find herself gazing into his narrow gaze with a pensive wonderment, taking in the sight of how his hair loved to fall over his eyes and how it was getting longer. He returned the favor by silently reaching up to brush at that same strand of inky hair that fell between her eyes. 

Sighing, Mikasa let him fuss—years ago, she would have found herself rolling her eyes and even jeering at his mannerisms, feeling irritation when he ensured things were extra clean and sighing with exasperation at his  tugs and nags. Now, each tug and pull made small smiles appear over her face like the kisses he liked to press against her when no one was looking. The sense of irony that came with  realizing how much she had loathed him , but then had grown to love him continued to press amused twinkles against her lashes, and she was quite certain it would not fade with time. She just couldn’t see herself coming to hate those things now. They were what made him so fantastically and incandescently wonderful in her eyes. 

The short Captain let out a short grunt when her leering smirk refused to fall, “Did you even iron your shirt like I told you?”

“For the last time,  yes .” She sighed, reaching to pull his griping hands away, choosing instead to lift one of the grabby limbs and press soft kisses against the digits around hers. “If you keep nagging I may reconsider being your wife.” 

“You know I could always change your mind right back,” He responded cooly, but his eyes were warm and there was a hint of a smile playing against the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah,” She sighed again, kissing his ring finger gently. “You could.” 

“Mikasa,” Levi hummed and she could feel her belly grow warm at the way he spoke her name. Is this what love did? Made every passing second feel more wonderful than the last? “You should stop.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” his fingers twitched and she pressed a sultry smirk against his knuckles—knowing full well he caught the way she had mimicked his words, when he had her pressed against a hallway and kissing her knuckles much like she was doing now. 

“No,” He chuckled, “But Keiji is staring and I’m pretty sure that means it’s time.” 

Onyx eyes blinked curiously before she turned, feeling a sheepish smile grow over the seductive tilt she had graced her lover at the sight of Keiji’s awkward and silent shifting. No doubt the man had heard rumors about what happened when someone interrupted them and kept a safe distance away. Smart man. Sighing once more, Mikasa pressed another kiss over Levi’s pink finger before dropping his hand. 

“You coming with, old man?” 

Levi’s eyebrow quirked, “I have duties to attend to. Surely, you don’t need me to hold your hand while Erwin tells you whether or not you should be my lieutenant or my lieutenant.” 

“And if I do?” Mikasa retaliated. Levi rolled his eyes again, but did not move an inch . She shrugged and tugged at his sleeve, “Come on. Let’s do it together.” 

He let out a long sigh, “Ackerman.” She held back a grin, knowing full well he was only using her last name as a last resort  to keep himself from giving in.

Mikasa tugged again, “It’s a pretty big deal. I figured those sort of things were shared with important people.” 

“Well, it’s not going to be much of a surprise,” Levi snorted, but made no move to leave. He didn’t move at all. The young woman let her fingers fall from his sleeve to curl against his fingers, the same ones she had just finished kissing. 

“What would you rather do? Clean you’re already bleached office or stand by my side when Erwin announces that I’m to be  your lieutenant?” she was getting through to him, she could see it with the  way his eyes flashed at the way she told him she would be his underling. It was a small in-joke between them, because when she had demonstrated a slight irritation at being placed under him in rank, he had only grinned and leaned close enough to press his lips near her ear. 

“Yes, but we both know you don’t mind being under me at all, don’t we, Mikasa?” To fight back, she ended up grabbing him around the collar and yanking him in the direction of his room and proving very much how he wouldn’t mind her being on top instead. The memory sent tingles through her skin and right into his, and in his eyes she could see exactly how he had revisited that particular happenstance in his mind already.  Gotcha. 

“Well, now that you mention it,” He said, letting his voice drop several timbres and decibels, making her nearly groan and push against his body. “I did just get a new file cabinet that could do with a good disinfecting.” 

“ Levi. ” 

“Alright,” He  smirked , “We’ll go in together, but mark my words, woman. You bring up the rank card again and I’ll make it a point to have you forget how to walk.” 

Mikasa smiled again before leaning in to press a kiss over his temple, whispering,  “Aye, Aye, Captain.” Fingers squeezing around hers once, Levi pressed a hot promise into her eyes before he let go, peering around Mikasa’s shoulder to nod at the severe looking officer’s face. 

“We’re good to go, Lieutenant.” Levi nodded and fell in step beside her as they headed into Erwin’s office.  All was fine as they marched through the door, Mikasa schooled her features into something less teasing and more serious for the occasion waiting to happen. To Mikasa, the Commander looked as he usually did; expression still and watchful, sitting with his back arrow-straight against his chair and arms resting over the surface of his immense desk. Yet, the moment they stepped through the doors, Levi visibly stiffened beside her, his narrow eyes tightening over Erwin’s appearance in a flash before appearing as bored as they usually did. 

Long ago, Mikasa would not have been able to notice this sudden yet subtle change. Now, it was clear to her and even something she had been able to catch fairly quickly. Still, when she turned her gaze back over the Commander, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Even so, she knew better than to question the man at her side, and it only made the air around them feel… off. 

“Levi, Cadet Ackerman.” Erwin greeted, nodding to them formally. 

“It’s Mikasa, Erwin,” the raven haired man sighed, but the teasing tones were gone. “Start getting used to her name.” 

“Mikasa, then.” Their blond leader amended, and that’s when Mikasa thought she was able to catch it. There had been something in his voice when he spoke that sounded tight, forced. As if he were making an effort to sound ami c able even though someone could be stepping harshly on his toe.  When he blinked those blue eyes over to her, the feeling was gone and Mikasa was once again facing Erwin as she always did. “I’ve news about your promotion.” 

“Good news, I hope?” Mikasa replied, smiling faintly in an attempt to lighten the suddenly pressing and confusing atmosphere. At her side, Levi was still tense, as if wound up and preparing to explode into action, yet Erwin appeared passive, lax even.  What’s…going on?

The Aryan man nodded and he lifted a single document from atop his desk, “This is a letter from the High Military Court. It states here that the promotion you are being considered to be transferred into has been met with little to no objections. In fact, I can feel safe to say that you are practically no longer a Senior Cadet, Mikasa.” 

The young woman nodded, feeling somewhat satisfied at his words , only she could not bring herself to openly speak about it. The tension in the air was becoming almost palpable and, frankly, it made her feel uncomfortable. “…However…” Levi spoke, as if sensing the undertone of Erwin’s following words before she could even consider it. 

The Commander sighed, “However, an evaluation must be conducted by an officer chosen by the Military Court.” 

“An evaluation?” Mikasa questioned. 

“What does the Military Court have to do with her promotion, Erwin?” Levi scowled, voice taking on an edge that was making bells chime in the back of her head. “Last I checked, evaluations were not done by the Pigs concerning Survey Corp promotions of rank.” 

Erwin was unfazed, “Due to the nature of the promotion and the unusual circumstance it presents; Mikasa must be evaluated under different eyes. I suspect this is also because of the reasons behind her age and reputation as one of our best soldiers.” 

Mikasa shook her head, not entirely understanding, “Wait, so… what does this mean?” 

“It means you are expected to travel to the Court itself and undergo your evaluation in the capital. If all goes accordingly, you will be allowed to rise in rank as I intend. You’re scheduled to leave the day after Armin and Historia’s wedding.” 

“That’s in two weeks…” She muttered. When she turned back to look at her Captain she was surprised to see a dark scowl over his face, marring his eyebrows and casting his eyes in a hollow shadow. Why his expression had darkened, she wasn’t sure and Mikasa had to hold back from reaching over to grasp his hand within her own. Before she could voice her confusion over the ever tightening atmosphere, Levi had straightened to stare flatly into Erwin’s eyes. 

“Would that be all?” He asked. 

The broad, blond man inhaled deeply, placing the document back on the surface of his desk before interlinking his fingers over his lips, “Yes,” He permitted. “That is all.” 

Frowning, Mikasa tried to meet Levi’s gaze, hoping to get an answer from him, at least if it was a silent one. However, he swiftly turned and began to head for the door, “Let’s go, Mikasa.” She bobbed her head lightly as she pressed her fist into a salute toward Erwin before turning to follow Levi out the door. 

“Hold on, Levi.” Erwin’s voice stopped them, “If you would, I mean to speak with you. In private.” 

The Captain let out a slow breath through his lips, straightening, he turned to face their leader, “Very well.” 

Feeling dismissed, Mikasa exchanged a quick glance with the short man, letting their hands brush lightly as she turned to leave.  Will you be alright?

Levi’s gaze softened beneath hers, nodding his chin just a fraction.  Yes, we’ll talk later.  Giving him a soft smile, the raven haired woman turned and walked toward the door, but not before noticing a thin silver necklace with a curious green gem pressed between twin silver wings placed haphazardly over the small book stand by the door. She didn’t bother to mention it but couldn’t help but feel like that was the last place the s imple jewelry should have been. The door closed behind her with a soft click and with it the last she saw of the necklace. 


	4. Fractured Hindsight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more." –E.E Cummings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's inspired tracks are: This Place is a Shelter, The Apple of My Eye, and The Wait (for the eruhan scene) all by Olafur Arnalds, and finally Travel Around the Stars by Kashiwa Daisuke.

It was relatively nice weather, the day Eren was finally allowed outside to take part in the drills. While it was not completely sunny, the overcast was still enough to bring some kind of respite as the young man moved in concentrated ducks and hurdles over obstacles. Soldiers all around followed the same course, each keeping to themselves as they threw themselves under wires and then to run over large hoops that resembles the wheels of a cart. It was in the midst of making a swift turn that Eren caught sight of a female soldier bursting into a sprint ahead of him, her blonde hair glistening under the light of the sun and suddenly reminding him of a conversation he had no more than a week ago.

"You seem to be living it up," Eren had whistled, looking over the bigger room with an appreciative glance.

"Eren!" Armin exclaimed, turning around from placing his gear on his table to allow for a brotherly embrace. Giving the blonde a firm clap on the back, the young titan shifter moved from the open door as Armin further led him in. "I guess promotions do come with their perks."

"Yeah, no kidding." Eren nodded, "What I wouldn't give to have an actual room instead of having to bunk in Hanji's study or the infirmary."

"I was about to work on my equipment," the Lance Corporal explained, motioning to his gear and picking up a rag from a box next to the polishing oils and jars of sticky fluid meant for cleaning. "You don't mind while we talk, right?"

Eren bobbed his head, flicking at a stray lock of brown hair that fell over his face. "Ugh, how can you put up with it? My hair's not nearly long as yours is and it's driving me nuts." The blond man shrugged, grinning.

"I got used to it. I had thought about getting it chopped off, but Historia likes it." Armin chuckled, pulling a chair and sitting on it before beginning to set his equipment over the white tarp resting on the wood of the table. At the mention of his fiancé, Eren smirked wide.

"Oho, Historia likes it, yeah?" the brunet repeated, smiling wolfishly when a small blush leaked over his friend's face. "You're not even married and already she's got you whipped. Kudos to her, man."

"When you find your own woman, Eren, you'll understand." Armin snorted, rolling his eyes despite the goofy tilt to his smile. It had supposed to have been a lighthearted comment, but instead of laughing it off as it had been expected, Eren's grin only proceeded to fall into an uncomfortable grimace. The blonde soldier didn't ignore this, catching on to the change in the atmosphere with keen observance. Not wanting to spook the topic away, Armin grabbed his rag and began to pour some cleaning fluid over the scratchy surface. The strong smell of ammonia and sulfur curled around their noses unpleasantly, but they were used to it.

"About that…" Eren sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets nervously. Glancing this way and that, he turned his green eyes back over Armin's blues, looking torn, "Look, can you…promise not to tell Mikasa?" Eren had asked his friend. Armin's eyes widened for a moment before frowning, nevertheless he nodded, and began to scrub the rag against the hilts of his gear. The brunet sighed, uncertain how to go about expressing the secret he had kept for nearly two years. Slowly, Eren moved to sit down on the chair opposite his blond friend, keeping his gaze on the opposite man's hands at work, chewing on a lip thoughtfully.

The only sound between them for the space of sometime had been of Armin dutifully cleaning and adjusting the maintenance of his swords and gear. Finally, Eren inhaled and spoke, choosing to start with a memory.

"What I'm about to tell you… it's about Annie." Eren admitted, peering up into Armin's expression for any sign of a negative reaction. When there was none, Armin only tilted his chin, listening. Spurred, the young man continued, "It was during the time we were separated. I don't remember much being with the others, but I do remember when Annie was around. It was with her that I was able to figure out how to harden the titan skin, see." Armin nodded, eyes widening as he considered the information and accepted it openly. "All I know was when we were together, she was no different than when we were in our training days. She had always been harsh, difficult… but then, I started talking with her. Sometimes there would be days when she wouldn't say a thing, but she would always be watching me, directing me. I don't know when it started or when I knew there was no going back, but at one point, Armin…"

"…You fell in love."

Eren's eyes shut tight, sighing heavily at the blond's soft conclusion. He nodded once, lifting a hand to fiddle with a wire, while Armin ran the polish over the smooth and cleaned hilts.

"Did she…?" the question was quiet and didn't need to be finished and all Eren could do to keep from getting up and walking away was to keep his gaze firmly away from his friend's.

"No… I… I never found out."

A sharp whistle threw Eren from the memory of conversing with Armin, his body picking up and bolting through a small tunnel and then jumping to grip onto the ropes that hung dangerously close to a deep pit filled with muddy water. Blinking determined green eyes, Eren panted as he swung his arms passed the female soldier, her blonde hair muddied with grime and dirty water. _Keep going_. Still, his mind trailed even while his body pushed itself.

"…I guess… in a way, I've always known." Armin had revealed, putting away the last of the polish within its respective box. Eren let out a thin stream of air through his nose, bitterly amused.

"…I didn't do a very good job hiding it,"

Armin's eyes crinkled with some amusement, his lips quirking into a small smile. "It's not about whether or not it was obvious, Eren." A frown made its way down the titan shifter's forehead, not getting his friend's meaning. As expected, Armin's smile broadened, "You've changed a lot over the years. Your anger was legendary, and the rest of the 104th always joked about it being borderline suicidal. But you grew, and I realized most of your growth was due to a lot of what the other shifters did and said, near the end…"

The shifters. Nearly a whole year since the Final Conflict since he was left as the last of the titan shifters and, granted, while they had essentially been on opposite sides of the war for most of the years… they had still been friends once upon a time. It seemed that even now, death did not quite fully redeem your deeds in life.

Swallowing back the bitter taste growing in the back of his throat, Eren shrugged at Armin's statement, deciding to look away and over what view he could get from the windows. A cold breeze blew from one parted window, pressing against their clothes and whipping their hair over their faces, though none of them complained. After such a fierce heat wave had nearly melted the very castle to the ground, the cold breezes were accepted with open arms.

" _When did you find out?" Armin's question made him look down to the stone under his arm._

" _That I loved her?"_

"… _that you still do."_

Green eyes blinked away beads of sweat as he jumped and hurdled over ropes and wires, breathing hard as he pushed himself through the obstacle course with determined force, swiftly overtaking the other soldiers as he sped up.

" _I've never stopped loving her, Armin."_

A sharp whistle made him move faster, grasping on to ropes and yanking himself up with as much speed as he could. The twine of the rope was biting, but Eren embraced it.

" _Even now, not knowing whether she lives or not, or even if she ever loved me in return…"_

He slipped, hands clutching to the rapidly escaping rope, burning as the friction made him hiss and wince. Still, he refused to let go.

" _I know I still love her."_

"… _I won't tell Mikasa. Not until you're ready."_

Reaching the end, he doubled over, gasping.

" _Thanks, Armin."_

"Well done, Jaeger! You nearly beat your last best time!" shouted the lieutenant overseeing the obstacle course. Eren sighed, trying to catch his breath. He could feel his stomach tremble, hands shaking with pain as he tried to ignore the burns scalding through his palms. It's not like this pain mattered, in just a few moments he could feel the rise of heat where the pain was most prominent and bits of steam began to pour from the reddened marks over his skin.

"You alright, soldier?" someone asked. Eren let his hands fall back to his sides, cursing the speed of his healing beneath his breath.

"Fine," he replied and when he glanced back up he could suddenly feel the weight of everyone's wary stares and careful distance. When he met gaze for gaze, each pair of eyes was quickly yanked away, nervous and suspicious but silent in their pointed appraisals. Air escaped his lungs, nearly choking him under the undeniable lack of trust being directed at him, all the fear and worry, all the muscles tensing to attack and hold down if he were to suddenly transform. He recognized those stares. He recognized them because he had seen them directed at the Titans that had once fed on the bodies of friends, family, comrades, lovers… only now it was directed at him.

All too abruptly, Eren was reminded of just how different he was… and just how alone he truly felt.

_Bertholt… Reiner… Ymir… Annie… I think I understand now…_

_Why you hated being alone._

* * *

They have been sneaking around for the past two weeks. Maybe the number of the days spent in each other's arms should have been enough to place a warning in Hanji's stomach. But they had promised each other honesty, and collaborative silence when it came to the incoming result of Erwin's match. She knew it was not going to last and while their time was short, it would be sweet and something Hanji would take to her grave.

But when the end of the week came and went, Hanji's anxiety for the match was met with a confused feeling when none came. "Is it here?" Hanji whispered when Erwin had arrived to her room on the day the match was supposed to arrive, looking downtrodden and exhausted.

Instead, he gave her a soft smile, and in the darkness she couldn't exactly read it but he only shook his head, kissed her, and said, "We're alright."

If she had thought she would feel relief, she didn't. She knew there would be no relief. Only more nerves, more forced smiles and the added illusion that they still had time, they still had each other. Each night after, he still arrived to her room.

This night was no different.

The uneasiness doesn't come into her stomach when he kissed her. It only comes when she feels how hard he is kissing her, how tight he's gripping on to her sides and skin. There is an honest twinge of some kind of overworked hind sight tugging at her stomach and it becomes worse when he doesn't offer her his usual smile and is pushing her roughly on his bed, kisses tasting sweet but with an aftertaste of what she can only register as desperation.

"Erwin…?" She murmured under his jaw when he positioned himself above her. His normally bright blue eyes were hooded, the smile on his face taking on a more rueful edge that was making this twinge curl into a strange panic that was only recognized because suddenly he was hiding his face against her neck. "Erwin…" She breathed, groaning when he began to move; strong, merciless, needing.

Suddenly, his soft touches seemed to grip her closer to him, eliciting a more violent friction that was physically more pleasurable but made her seriously begin to worry.

"Hanji," He moaned against her, pressing sloppy kisses to her collarbone as he united them under his sheets. For a moment, she considered stopping him. Because the way he was saying her name against her ear was beginning to frighten her and made her want to clutch ever harder against his frame.

In the time that would've taken them to get started, they were both already done. Panting and gasping heavily, they waited as their bodies came down from the high that was the post-coital euphoria.

"Hey…" She whispered, hours into the night and sensing he was still awake. "What's wrong…?"

He didn't move, only rubbing a thumb against the curve of her hip. The sensation had once been a mindless action, the desire to be sure he wasn't dreaming. Now… it only felt as if he was ensuring she was still with him.

Hanji slowly ran her fingers over the skin of his chest, letting her digits pad over the hot flesh and feel the hairs of his chest give under her touches. It was a soft gesture, soothing and calm. She had done the same when he had worried over Levi, months ago. She would still do the same while she had him. Even while she knew he wasn't telling her something, Hanji knew that this was Erwin. He would tell her when he was ready.

"Celia Dietrich came into my office today," He murmured finally, his voice resounding against his chest and tickling the ear pressed on it. Hanji tilted her chin, glancing up in the darkness of his room and with what moonlight filtered in, she could see the worried crease over his eyebrows. Despite her angle, she knew he was frowning, she could tell with how the ridges of his nose wrinkled. Hanji liked to think she was an expert in Erwinese.

"Was it about Dieter?" Hanji asked after a moment of soft sighing and silent pondering.

"She explained to me how she was worried he would abandon the match to run away with Margo Ludwerg."

"What happened?"

"I had no choice but to call them in." Erwin sighed again, lifting a hand to massage to knot of muscle forming over the bridge of his nose. "I knew this mandate would bring forth undesirable results… but this was extreme. I've asked several soldiers to give up their lives for the good of mankind, Hanji." Those blue eyes blinked open, staring hard at the ceiling above them. "I never thought I would have to ask them so blatantly to give up their futures."

She knew what he was trying to say. _I've always known that was what we were asking them to do… I guess it didn't really hit home until now…_

There was a moment of silent pause as Hanji studied him. Decidedly, the auburn haired woman pulled herself up to her elbow, the sound of the sheets sliding of her skin were enough to warn Erwin of what she would do. He blinked at her, watching her with a torn expression. "What's the difference, Erwin?" Hanji asked him, staring sternly into the blues of his gaze.

He gawked at her, eyes wide and hand falling from his face to watch her with surprise. "Lives, futures, in the end, we're all asking for the same thing. Sacrifice. That is what we signed up for, that is why we have become soldiers, and that is why we have survived this far. Because of the sacrifices of thousands and thousands of men and women who had wanted so many things, but got what life dished out for them. Death, Marriage, Misery, or Happiness, they are all things we have to face in individual circumstances, but if we do not push aside our own petty differences, we'll only deserve whatever life cruelly believes we have no better chance of getting."

Lifting a tan hand, she gently cradled it against his cheek, thumbing his lips with gentle affection. "We cannot allow the voice of humanity to be silenced by these sort of protests, Erwin. We knew that the instant we saw our friends die, and know that still. Don't we?"

In the tempest of his eyes, Hanji saw one thing. Resolution. When he kissed her wrist and nodded, there was no smile, no warmth felt when he nodded and took her words. "Yes, Hanji…" He agreed, and while she could still feel that resolution there, he suddenly felt strangely distant, even more so when he finally fell asleep at her side and she felt no resolution for herself.

In the morning, when Hanji woke, she woke alone.

It had been the first time in two weeks of being with Erwin again that it happened. While the evidence of his presence was still there, his warmth was not.

Suddenly, the cold winds of autumn didn't quite feel so welcome anymore…

* * *

If you were to put things simply, it made sense. Having a packet of instructions would benefit, be a sort of blessing to those who had to try to figure out how to begin a relationship with a perfect stranger, even more so when it's explicitly clear that this relationship will certainly end with marriage and children. It was almost laughable, really. Laughable in the sense that reading the instructions still gave the readers the illusion of choice; as if they could decide how successful the relationship could end up. As if chemistry, appeal, even personal tastes had already been decided long ago for them and they just either bend over and take it or fight in vain against it—making everyone involved miserable.

It was enough to frustrate many, but this particular couple was absolutely seething. Even if it was as inwardly as they could make it without imploding.

_In the process of acquaintanceship, it is expedient that the soldiers agreed within the Mandate, and the Match's establishment, to allow for moments of intimacy. These include, but are not solely dependent on: hand holding, embracing, kissing…_

"Like hell I'm doing that."

A strange pause followed as green eyes blinked curiously into irritated amber. For a moment, neither said anything, just stared into each other's eyes, awkwardly appraising the moment of spoken unison. Connie's eyebrows dipped further down over the bridge of his nose. "Okay," he sighed, slow and with thinly veiled contempt, toward the auburn haired woman or the mandate—it was hard to tell—"You need to stop doing that."

Li leaned back on her chair, raising a brow in response as she lifted a strand of rust colored hair mindlessly, "Speaking my mind? Not likely."

"Saying the same stuff in sync with me," Connie clarified, cheeks coloring as he fumed silently. "It's freaking creepy, not to mention disgustingly cliché."

She let out a thin snort through her nose, rolling her eyes, "You've been reading way too many romance novels to know that's cliché."

"I _don't._ " He snapped, leaning his hands against the desk to resist the urge to tip her chair back. "I happened to live with a lot of women and sometimes they have nothing more to talk about during meal times. I pick up on things."

"Uh-huh," Li hummed, watching him with that familiar twinkle of amusement in her eye that drove him crazy. "Of course you do."

"I'm NOT sleeping with you!" Connie finally exploded, throwing his arms to the sides as he let out a huge gasp of breath. Li's lips twitched, her eyes widening just a fraction at his blunt exclamation. Suddenly, those same plump lips were pulling up in an amused smirk.

"Sex isn't the only way to be intimate, Connie. Or would you like to go over the list again?" She said flippantly, grinning as his eyes narrowed at her.

"I wasn't talking about sex, Li." He returned, but it was obvious he was. He just wanted a chance to contradict her. As expected, she saw through him instantaneously.

"I highly doubt you meant sleeping together 'platonically'," she finished raising her fingers to emphasize the word. Connie's face flushed a darker red, eyes narrowing into slits as he glowered daggers at her amused expression.

"You are impossible," he hissed, turning around to snatch up the packet Erwin had assigned them after they had been matched. "Of all people I could've gotten matched up to and it had to be a chick with a crazy complex."

"It would have been nicer to be matched with someone taller," she quipped, shrugging and Connie tensed, nearly lunging for her neck. Instead, he took to taking several deep breaths, attempting to calm himself from strangling his assigned partner. It had been a week and a half. Just twelve freaking days of nonstop quipping and dealing with verbal kicks under the table. Each time had been even more infuriating and after yesterday's round of insults, Connie nearly punched a wall. Why had he ever considered being in a relationship with her had been beyond him. If he could go back in time to when he had been walking to Erwin's office, he would've easily kicked himself in the gut, exclaiming, "You better quit thinking that shit now. Because now we're with her and it's not at all how you're wishing."

"It can't be that bad," Jean had said on the third day being her match. _Oh no, Jean. It is that bad._ Connie wanted to go punch him, too. Sure, it wasn't absolute hell. When Li was being partially sane, she was actually quite amusing and could match wits with the best of them. Some of the things she had said—like calling Jean out on his bullshit during breakfast that one day when the topic of marriage came up, that was hilarious. Although, Connie would never openly show it. He didn't want her thinking that he was warming up to her or something stupid like that.

He knew she was acting this way because she was angry. Angry about the whole situation, about being paired up like they were no better than dogs to be bred. But, dammit, he wasn't exactly jumping out of his seat to kiss and get down on bended knee for her, was he?

"Look," she said after another tense silence. "I don't like this any more than you do, but we both signed up for this so we should expect this sort of thing."

"Being whored around?" Connie grunted as he kicked back his chair to throw himself on it, looking over the packet with malice. Li's eyebrows twitched and he was able to recognize the expression of agreement before she wiped it out with a simple shrug.

"Expressing our undying love for each other." She said, dramatically waving a hand as she motioned toward the packet in his hands. "We're matched. We're meant to be, and we're expected to have largely disappointing sex together—"

"—Oi," Connie crowed, offended.

Li ignored him, "—and breed perfectly good babies that will ensure the next generation survives." She took a moment to inhale and the single twitch in her brow suddenly made him realize just how frustrated she was. It dawned on him then, just how she hid her emotions, carefully and within pointed words that made her seem bitterer than she truly was. Or maybe it was the other way around? Who knew? To Connie, this woman was an enigma that he wasn't entirely too thrilled to attempt to figure out. Still, he couldn't shake it some of the words she had said.

"I wouldn't call it largely disappointing," he grumbled after a tense moment of silence. She blinked those piercing green eyes of hers, caught off guard.

"…What?"

"The sex," He clarified, shrugging and trying to keep his face as blank as possible. "Quite a bit quick to judge it'll be disappointing." She blinked, once… twice, before smirking widely and leaning forward in her chair, the sudden proximity making him want to lean further away from her but he didn't want to seem perturbed by her. Most of her hidden attacks had happened when he had let his guard down.

For a long and arduous moment she stared at him, eyeing him with such bizarre scrutiny, it made him squirm inwardly. It seemed like she was trying to find a weak link in his comment, his implied statement, when finally, "Are you trying to tell me you've had sex, Connie Springer?"

Miffed and feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, Connie sniffed, "…What's it to you? Have you ever had sex?"

"No," Li replied candidly, not even batting an eye. This surprised him. Why it did, he wasn't certain. "I've never even had a boyfriend, so I can't share any naughty experiences without yanking them from my sister's pocket. She likes to think she's been around, you see."

"…Oh, kay…" Connie mumbled, shifting his weight in his chair before pointedly looking away.

"So have you?" Li's voice sounded eerily closer now and he fought back the urge to flinch away. Instantly, he was faced with a decision. He could either, tell the truth and fight back when she would laugh at him, or blatantly lie and hope she wouldn't be the wiser.

"That depends," Connie said finally. "Do hand jobs count?"

Li snorted, actually snorted before beginning to laugh. Try as he might, Connie struggled to keep himself in his chair. Fighting off a furious blush as he watched her laugh and laugh like he had said the funniest thing. "…Oi." He grunted, not enjoying how hard she was laughing at him. Of course she would see right through him, why did he even bother?

"I can't believe you actually said that," Li exclaimed, lifting a hand to cover her face as she tried to restrain her giggles. "Get real."

"Oi, it really happened!" He snapped, smacking his hand on the table to let out some offended steam, yet his blush was not letting off and he couldn't ignore the way her laughter was making his chest feel tight. "At least I have some experience, unlike you." He didn't know why he said it but it made her laughter stop dead.

All too slowly, her eyes narrowed as they turned on him and Connie could only revel in his small victory for half a second. "Have you ever had a girlfriend, Connie?" the question nearly made him reel, and he was frowning with confusion and even some suspicion at the woman.

"…Why?"

"Answer the question." Li demanded, her voice falling in a frightening monotone that made him nervous. Neither said anything for a moment as Connie tried to study her as she had done him just moments prior. He had hoped that she would tremble, quake… show him a hint of a weakness, but the more he stared into her eyes the more he was convinced that her countenance was absolute steel.

"No, I haven't." The words made their way out of his mouth before he could stop them and he wanted to kick himself brutally when he saw a smirk press over her mouth.

"No girlfriend, then. I wonder who the lucky girl was that managed to get you off." How can she just say things like that? She didn't even blink! The sheer outrage of her statement threw kindling into the embers stirring in his chest, making him inflate with a fiery breath that if he could he would blow into her face like fire. Fists clenching, Connie fought against the urge to really hurt her. Although, right now, giving in was sounding like a wonderful idea. Connie had never really hit a girl, but this… this woman… sitting in front of him was no girl—she was a _beast_.

"Even if I had a girlfriend, I would at least be sure she wasn't anything like you." Connie hissed, digging his nails in his palms.

"Well guess what," She replied, placing a hand under her chin as she blinked, "It is me. I'm what you're stuck with, I'm the best you're going to get. So might as well get used to me now."

"I don't have to listen to this," Connie grunted before turning around and forced his eyes on the packet, ignoring the rest of what Li was saying.

… _The responsibilities of each couple are simple. Find a comfort zone, establish boundaries (_ good luck with that) _and understand that this match has been decided to benefit humanity. All emotional and personal objections must be set aside for the greater good. It is essential that you—_

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed his collar, grasping to his lapels with a fierce yank and forcing his surprised gaze to smolder against the green pair that belonged to Li. Even standing, she only stood a few inches above him as he sat pushed to the edge of his seat. Yet, right now, it was like looking into the hot stare of a titan, but instead of the fear that usually came with seeing such a predator—Connie could only feel a powerful zing of thrill shoot through him.

"You may be my chosen partner," She was growling and he could feel her breath on his lips. Hot, moist, intense… "But I am still your superior in rank. You would do well not to ignore me."

"Hardly," Connie hissed, not knowing where he was getting the nerve to still argue, "I'm not even on your squad, so your orders and authority mean nothing to me." He hit a nerve, he saw it clearly now. Maybe he wouldn't have had she stayed away, but here, being so close to her for the first time… he could see all the rage, the insecurity, the conflict and pain coursing through her eyes like a hidden wound making her mouth tighten and her fingers clench tighter over the coarse material of his jacket. It stunned him. Even more so when he saw those same furiously green eyes narrow over his.

"Nothing?" She snarled and before he could wonder why she said that, she was slamming her mouth fiercely against his.

Sharply gasping, Connie felt his body jerk in surprise, eyes widening when he felt her tongue force through his teeth and curl around his in a motion that made the thrill of before send violent shocks into his veins. He didn't realize he was grabbing at her wrists until he felt his fingers graze over the skin of her forearms. He grunted, trying to gather sense and motion into his limbs, but felt it scatter into smoke the more he tried to gather it firmly.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Connie tried and tried in vain to hold back the moan that threatened to bubble up his throat. He failed the moment she ran her tongue down to curl over the roof of his mouth before pulling away to suck hard on his lower lip.

It was not a gentle kiss. It was hard, bordering on violent and tasting of something tart and bitter. It wasn't until he felt her knee press against the chair between his legs and dangerously close to his crotch, that Connie felt his body give another sharp jerk away. "MM—Li, what are you-!?" he gasped, but was only tugged back against her and her kiss darkened lips.

After another fierce suck on his lower lip that involved the slightest nip of teeth, she pulled away tugging at his lip before letting go with a wet pop. The resulted sound echoed in his ears, making the tingling in his mouth to spread _everywhere_. Blinking blearily and gasping, he felt another thrill that left him breathing out a shudder when he felt her tongue suddenly run over his upper lip before pulling away completely.

For a moment he tried to think of what to say, trying to gurgle words out when she was leaning in again and he could only squeeze her wrists as a way to discourage her. Instead of kissing him again, Li pressed close enough to let their noses brush before hissing, "I am _not_ nothing."

Just like that, she ripped herself away. The door slammed shut a second after and it took Connie a serious moment of gathering himself before realizing she left the room. She had left him. As if she did not just thoroughly and viciously kiss him senseless.

"What the _hell_ …" he heaved, feeling his hands begin to tremble. "…was _that_ for _?"_

* * *

When Mikasa finally collapsed beside her fiancé, they took nearly fifteen minutes of just laying by each other's side, gasping and well beyond spent. There is a lull between them, with Mikasa's cheek cradled by his clavicle and heaving chest, the music of his ramming heart beat echoing her own. After a moment of holding each other beneath the sheets and the pale light of late evening, she cannot hold back the urge to giggle—still dizzy with euphoria and tingling where his fingers brushed her spine.

"What…?" He asked after her giggles fade into a deep sigh of contentment.

"…That was new…" She hummed, tracing lazy circles on his left pectoral and she can hear him huff, imagine the smirk lifting the corners of his lips with obvious manly pride.

"You liked that, did you?" Levi chuckled, shifted slightly to let her curl her arm fully around his broad chest. Mikasa nodded as vigorously as she could, but considering the exhaustion of bodies overly taxed and extremely satisfied, she could only wiggle instead.

"I could do without the sudden spinning…" She clicked her tongue and he was edging his chin down to peer at her with a critical eye. Storm grey met onyx for a serious moment before she grinned, tongue peeking out from behind her teeth before he rolled her eyes.

"Always a critic, you are," He grunted, but it was mild mannered and made her press a kiss to the curve of his jaw.

"Practice makes perfect, Levi." Her statement is only emphasized as she dragged her hand down his side to caress the firmness of his oblique, making his side tremble when she grazed a tickle spot.

"Oi," He grunted, dropping a hand to catch hers before she could attempt to attack him. He already allowed her that once and to this day she can't look at him straight without wanting to run the pads of her fingers over his sides to get him to laugh like he did then. "None of that now. Go to sleep."

"Make me," She returned and quickly found herself regretting it when he flipped over her and trapped her between his arms and legs, dark eyes narrowing dangerously as he peered down at her.

"Too familiar, Ackerman," He warned, smirking when she blushed. "Look at you, blushing like you were still afraid to kiss me."

Her lips parted with mock outrage, "I was _never_ afraid to kiss you."

"Mmhmm." He hummed again, dipping his chin to lather her jaw with slow kisses, enjoying it when she squirmed and tilted her chin to the side to grant him further access. "You may have age on your side, but I can still slaughter you in stamina."

"We both know that won't last long…" She snorted, but let her eyes slide close as he dipped his chin to follow the trail of her throat to her chest, the sound of his lips smacking at her feverish skin made the tingling turn into excited thrums. "You're going to have to save these shocking maneuvers, Levi… otherwise, I'll know all your moves before the month is over—Oh!"

His teeth pulled away from the love bite he pressed over her collarbone, making her jolt and rub their skin delightfully. "Please," Levi rolled his eyes, looking up at her as he wiggled his way toward her belly, pressing tender kisses against her breasts before finding her firm stomach. "It would take _years_ of ongoing nights before you found out all my moves."

"How old _are_ you? Gross," She laughed, nose wrinkling when he glowered at her before he dipped his chin again to nip at a sensitive point on her hips. "Alright, alright, not gross!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands to push his face away, lest he begin attacking her in the manner she had discovered upon him. Their movements sloppy, and still tired from their latest round of extreme athleticism, Levi stopped and let her hands fall around his hair.

"Levi," Mikasa murmured after another warm silence of watching him press feather soft kisses over her belly to slowly rise back to her chest.

"Hn."

"There's something I want to tell you…" She said, grabbing at his chin to pull him away from her skin, even if she did want him to keep going.

Those gray eyes of his blinked up to meet hers, darkening the more the light around them fell into darkness. "You want to go again?" He asked, lips curling into another smirk, "I don't mind but last time we went at it more than three times in a night I ended up getting punched because you were extra sore the next morning."

"Yeah, and I made it up to you by paying you a surprise visit that afternoon." She retorted, pushing away the hair from around his face. At the memory, Levi tilted his head considering her words with a serious expression. Grinning, Mikasa gave his hair a last affectionate brush before hoisting herself up to a sitting position, giving him no choice but to follow and sit at her side.

"It's not that," She said finally, her smile broadening when he arranged the pillows to rest at her back. "You're such a sap," Mikasa sighed, giggling when he proceeded to fluff said pillows so she would be more comfortable.

"I could stop being a sap and let you sit on nothing," He returned swiftly, shrugging as he suddenly began to yank at one of the pillows beneath her.

"I was kidding—kidding! Okay, stop it. That's not what I was going to say." The young woman amended, grabbing at his hands and pulling them away from his pillows. He raised a brow in return. Unable to hold back, she grabbed him from around the neck before pulling him in into a swift and tingling kiss.

"You've got my attention," He said, sighing deeply when she pulled away.

"Remember when Erwin called me into his office, four days ago?"

"Right with the interrupting corporal," Levi huffed, eyebrows dipping at the memory with distaste. The young Oriental nodded, rolling her eyes before making to grab at his hands and intertwine their fingers.

"Well, he made me a certain proposition," She began.

"No." Levi interrupted, scowling firmly into her eyes. Mikasa blinked at him, alarmed and confused.

"No-? But I didn't even…"

"He can't marry you. I've already proposed and you've said yes. Tell him to deal with it."

She let out a deep breath, laughing, "Idiot, that's not what I meant." Rolling her eyes she pulled him in into another kiss, tenderly and soaked with amused chuckles. "He wants to promote me."

"It's about damn time," Levi nodded, settling himself beside her and allowing her to drag her fingers over their intertwined palms. "I've honestly been expecting him to—"

"—To First Lieutenant."

Levi fell silent. When Mikasa pulled her gaze from the silhouettes of their hands to look at his shadowed face she found she couldn't make out his expression. Frowning, she tried to feel the atmosphere, hoping to catch maybe a hint to his reaction before ending in a conclusion. In the end, she noticed how his hold was strangely unresponsive even after she dragged her nails over the surface of his arm.

Sighing, she let her head fall back on the pillows, "…You're mad."

"I'm not mad." Was his clipped response, thumb caressing at her palm even though his tone was monotonous.

Mikasa didn't buy it. "Yes, you are." She insisted, and began to retract her fingers from around his. Instead of letting her go, he only tugged her back, forcing her to fall against his side and to curl under his arm.

"Why would I be mad?" the question was rhetorical, matching his tone with some disbelief and flat irritation at her prodding. Even so, his lips quickly found the curve of her cheek in the dark and were moving against her in three short presses.

The young woman sighed again, letting him kiss her with an expression equally as flat as his tone, "Because you are." Levi pulled away, and Mikasa could practically feel his glare against her head. She knew he hated it when she responded in such juvenile tones, but there was still a sense of play hidden beneath their gray monotone and their unconvincing argument. As expected, he quickly figured out she was only tugging at his seriousness, messing with his reaction to get a rise out of him.

With a grunt, he was yanking at her pillows, making her fall against the mattress and ignoring her sharp exclamation. "Brat. I'm not mad." He insisted, looking down at her and with eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see the careful stare he was fixing her.

"Uh-huh." She shrugged, pushing herself up on her elbows despite the way her hair fell against her face in a tangle of messy locks. Levi lifted a hand and brushed the locks away, pinching at her lips when she blew air at his fingers in retaliation.

"Alright, I admit, I'm a bit peeved." He revealed, tossing his own hair from over his face to lay down on his side next to her. Mikasa wriggled her way to face him, watching him with a curious expression that bordered on the teasing side. "That's a rank that took me several years to get into."

"I thought you didn't care about ranks and that sort of thing." Mikasa smirked, flicking him in the chest. Another pillow found its way to her face with a loud ' _plop_ ,' making her shout of indignation muffled beneath the fabric.

"I don't," Levi shrugged, not reacting when she returned the attack with her own pillow attack to his face. Pulling off the white stretch of cotton off his face, the dark haired man continued, nonchalant, "But, it took me time to get there. Several years of dealing with idiot officials and being undermined by men too used to walking around in piss stained pants and having to take their orders before making it to Captain. And yet, here you are being promoted to First Lieutenant when you've barely been a Senior Cadet for a year."

A small silence passed between them before the lighting in the room slowly brightened in a cascade of silver from his window. Mikasa barely registered it was moonlight until she saw it bounce off his gray eyes like water. Softly, she adjusted herself to peer down over him again, watching with silent reverence the way the light bounced off his skin and made it glisten like porcelain, or ivory. Even after all these years, and even these past few nights, she was still surprised at how unbelievably young the moonlight made him look, as if he were only a couple of years her elder. They were both lucky in that aspect, she supposed. Even though he was considerably older, they would at least still be able to age comfortably together. That's what mattered in the end. The reminder that she would be spending the rest of her life with this man warmed her, sent the familiar warm tingles of adoration to send heat through her veins and flush her chest with the desire to stare at him forever.

Gently, she pressed an arm over his side, leaning down to press her lips over his in a soft open mouthed kiss that he returned without much complaint. Finally, she pulled away, peering into his softened gaze with a tiny grin, "…Is it bad?"

"No. It's not, actually." Levi replied, lifting a hand to pull at the strands that fell over her face to brush them behind her ear. His fingers ran through the inky tresses, following them until the fell just below her neckline to tease her bare shoulders.

Mikasa smiled again, leaning down to kiss him again before humming a "Really?" against his lips.

"Mmhmm." He sighed, "In fact, I can work with this."

"How's that?" She murmured as she pulled away, shivering when she felt his opposite hand find its way to the valley of her back and run the tips of his fingers against the sensitive flesh. Before she could blink, she found herself face up into a pair of mischievous moonlit silver eyes, surprised and feeling the familiar thrill of being under his scrutiny make her heart start speeding up.

"The good thing about being a Captain, Mikasa, is that we have a say into who can get assigned as our lieutenants." He explained, running his hands over her arms and finally down her sides, feeling the skin with touches that sent a fever boiling in her blood.

"Chances are they're going to assign me to you anyway," She attempted to sound flippant, casual, but his touches were already eliciting delicious shudders and goose bumps through her skin and the familiar pool of heat began to accumulate in her core and make her belly wobble with anticipation. Levi let his head duck to catch her earlobe between his teeth, making her hiss delightfully against his ear.

"I would go on a bloody rampage if they didn't." He growled, low and soft, making sure to press his chest firmly against hers so she could feel each word in her ribcage. As expected, she was already getting breathless, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as his hands found the crease of her hips.

"That would make both of us." She breathed, fingers finding the sharp angles of his biceps and shoulder blades, trembling. He pulled back, letting his tongue taste the area of her pulse before capturing her lips in a deep kiss.

"I do believe this sort of promotion calls for a celebration," He smirked against her lips, parting her legs with firm hands and making her trembling nearly explode into complete quaking, fingers finding sensitive spots that tore coherency clean from her lips.

Mikasa's fingers gripped tighter, hips bucking beneath him before quickly gasping, "Levi, I really don't think I can do a fourth ti—Oh... _Ooh…ah mm—_ Okay, but just thi-this time…"

"Don't kid yourself," He chuckled before pulling away to burn the intensity of his gaze over her hazy one. "I fully intend to educate you in what's to come these next few years as my wife."

As expected, it was a lesson her body would not let her forget the following day… and night… and even the day after that.


	5. The Fruits of Their Labors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control." ― Megan Chance, The Spiritualist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired tracks in order of scenes: Blood on my hands by Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard from The Dark Knight OST , Aruarian Dance by Nujabes, Labor of Love by Michael Giacchino, and Forgotten Wings—Wasurerareta Tsubasa by Yoko Shimomura, from the Drammatica album.

_Happiness can be found in the smallest places, Captain._

He remembered the way the light sang when it hit her eyes just right, the way her smile twinkled at him and how her light hair swayed in the breeze as she swept the courtyard. _Maybe that's the reason why we haven't all died out._ _He remembered the sound of her laughter—soft, airy and always bright enough to make even the smallest smiles lift his lips._

 _Humanity is not unlike the flowers in the garden, Captain._ She had once said. He remembered scoffing, but instead of getting upset she would only shrug. _You can think it's a ridiculous idea, but it's not._

He's dreaming. He knows he is.

_Flowers are frail and easily broken, you only have to press your thumb just a bit before their stems break, before their petals fall apart and they lose their scent and beauty._

She's smiling at him, laughing at one of Erd's jokes. He remembers standing next to her after she breaks down, holding onto the flower charm of one of the recent casualties. Suddenly she's crying, screaming for his orders behind him. _"CAPTAIN, YOUR ORDERS!"_

"Levi…"

She's against the tree now, blood drying on her face, smile gone and her eyes empty… so empty…

_But they grow despite the rain, and the wind. Despite opposition, flowers always grow. And like Humanity, they're always reaching for the sun._

_I'm sorry…I couldn't save you…_

_Soft hazel eyes, denied of life are suddenly dark, a stark gray that had no longer gazed at him lovingly under moonlight. The sandy strands of hair bleed into inky black, and pink lips are stained with the blood of a wound too damaging to restore hope. Suddenly, it was not Gunther who hung upside down, head hanging by a thread of skin and nerves, but Jean._

_No…_

_It was not Erd who was bitten into two pieces, eyes still open as the last of his innards stained the ground, Armin's body was strewn like broken puzzle pieces—tears still falling from faded eyes._

_Please, no…_

_It was not Auruo's broken frame that lay in strangled angles, but Eren's, blood leaking from his eyes and mouth in a shattered gaze._

_No, no… no…_

_Petra's smashed body no longer smeared precious life against the trunk of the immense tree, and Levi could feel more than rage…more than agony when her face had changed to the features of the woman he had grown to love after having lost so much._

_Mikasa…!_

"Levi!"

His eyes snapped open and he realized how hard he's shaking, above him moonlight curved within a worried gaze. _Petra?_ No… these eyes are not a gentle hazel of honey and green. This is the concerned stare of the slanted onyx and silver, soft blonde hair bled to black and he stared, not recognizing—confused and even terrified. The touch of something gentle on his face made his body jolt and the sensation brought back recent memories, pulling him out of the turmoil that was a nightmare riddled mind and back into the safety of her embrace.

"Mikasa…" He breathed. She nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she brushed the sweaty bangs from his forehead, letting out soothing sighs as he fought to catch his breath. His heart was pounding, practically choking him with the force of adrenaline and fear.

"Hey, hey, It's okay," She hushed. Levi let out a shuddered breath, dragging his mind to focus on the way she felt pressed to his skin and he grabbed for her, yanking her against him as he hid his face in her neck. "Hey," She sighed, but he can feel the worry in her heart, pounding fast as she held him.

"Just a nightmare," She stroked his neck and he hates himself because he cannot stop the tears.

"No… it wasn't." He mutters through clenched teeth. Mikasa remained silent as he inhaled and exhaled shuddered strokes of breath against her skin, until she shifted to lean over him once more.

"What is it…?" She whispered, dark eyes searching his through the faint light of the moon. "Tell me."

He almost did.

"I want the following conversation to be strictly confidential," Erwin had declared, blue eyes staring off into some unknown direction while Levi watched him curiously. The shorter man's eyes narrowed once more, eyebrow twitching before he turned, reached for the lock on the door and flicked it with a firm _clack_.

"Very well," Levi replied, taking several steps closer to the large desk within the Commander's office. Erwin motioned to a chair with a hand, his eyes remaining far away even while Levi acquiesced in silence and sat across from his commanding officer.

"By confidential," the blond man proceeded, and his eyes were abruptly piercing against him and the gravity of the situation seemed to sink a dark foreboding in Levi's lungs. "I mean, there is absolutely no chance Mikasa or any of your squad members should ever come to know of this."

The Captain's jaw tightened, muscles clenching as the foreboding spread to the rest of his chest. With a curt nod, Levi agreed despite hating the fact that this would be a secret he had to keep from her. It was not an altogether new experience, having to agree in keeping information out of his squad's hands—but this was Mikasa. The woman he had desired to marry and now Erwin was asking him to keep a secret from her. Even so, Levi knew the man had his reasons, and if Mikasa must remain in the ignorant dark concerning this… then there had to be a fucking good one.

"You were right to doubt and suspect the evaluation," Erwin commenced, placing his hands over the wood of his desk as he glanced down over the documents upon it. Levi let his gaze drop to the slim papers, noting they were the very pieces of information bearing the symbol of the High Courts. "It is an unusual request despite the unusual circumstances."

"Being?"

Strong fingers rapped in a series of taps over the papers, "Mikasa's promotion is not one I decided to give on a whim."

"I figured as much," Levi said, bringing his attention away from the papers and back to the broad man in front of him. "What exactly is happening, Erwin?" the smallest twitch of muscle tugged at the creases of the Commander's eyes, lips tightening just a fraction despite Levi's heavy scrutiny. It seemed to be enough for the shorter man, eyes widening and eyebrows raising before coming down into a hard scowl.

"Do they suspect you?"

"Of course they suspect me." Erwin replied, lifting a hand to grip at the bridge of his nose once before falling back over the papers. "While it is humorous of us to entertain the fact they are easily fooled, Levi, we cannot simply forget that the investigations were never completed."

The dark haired man leaned forward, pressing an elbow over the desk before slowly enunciating, "You were acquitted. The trial was put to rest. Nile Dawke is rotting in a cell right now with enough evidence against him to keep our asses squeaky clean for the rest of his pathetic life, and they still _doubt_?"

At this, the Aryan smiled, "Wouldn't you?"

Levi let out a slow breath, eyebrows knitting together as his lips dipped into a grim line. "What do they want with Mikasa…?"

"It's a matter of what they want with the both of you." Steel blue eyes glanced up, confused and even a bit alarmed.

"The both of us?"

Erwin's expression was one of tight and grave contemplation. Levi would not dare openly admit it, but the man's words were beginning to frighten him—a feeling Levi had always hated with every fiber of his being. The tension in the room rose to an insurmountable degree, pressing over the nerves of the silent Captain waiting for a steadier indulgence of information. The seconds passed and Levi felt his hands curl into fists, spit feeling pasty within his mouth even as Erwin let out a slow stream of air through his nose.

"Erwin."

"I fear, Levi…" It was tentative and even delicate how Erwin approached the following words, cautionary to an extreme. He recognized this tone the man took and it only made the hackles of his growing aggravation and violent need to _know_ rise and press tightness behind his eyes. "…that your match may have been done with more to do than your connections and more to do with darker ulterior motives."

The tightness pressed behind his throat now, making it almost impossible to register oxygen at a safe rate, "Explain."

"You and Mikasa are the strongest the Corp has to offer," _Obviously._ "Easily, I would say, you could overpower many of the men within the Military Police. Together, you are a near unstoppable machine of destructive power."

It may have been the result of such a serious topic that brought up to mind a particular memory of Mikasa sitting above him, her eyes close with wild abandon as they moved and rocked together at a powerful pace— _damn straight we are_ —he thought, but quickly shoved the desire to make such an inappropriate quip. It was neither the time, nor the place. "Get to the fucking point," Levi berated, feeling the anxious flame of this pressure take in a breath despite Erwin's warning glance.

"Several months ago—and I suspect it was during the time of the trials—someone must have noticed the tension between you and your fiancé." The man elaborated, "If you remember, you were not in each other's best favor." The reminder was unnecessary and had brought a firmer taste of acid in Levi's tongue. Composed, the captain held back from snapping once more and settled on nodding even as Erwin continued.

"My suspicions are such; your dynamic as a Titan-killing machine is legendary and noteworthy. No doubt pairing you both would establish the obvious, you work well together. However, emotionally, it may have appeared the two of you could not manage an intimate relationship and would cause discord and turmoil within yourselves. Such motives would have strengthened and, simultaneously, weakened you both enough to possibly debilitate my control. In a way, had you never reconciled, it would have done just that.

"However, I suspect that now that idea is no longer considered valid, what with you proving quite publicly the strength of your affections for each other. I believe, Levi… that having found that balance of emotional and dynamical teamwork, has been seen as a boon to my hand rather than a bane. And yet, the very strength of your emotions, Levi, would probably destroy you both."

This did not answer the question, he knew, but Levi chose to remain silent and pressed one of his hands against the armrest of his chair, waiting even though his mind was already connecting dots that the Aryan man had been so concernedly painting. Erwin took another moment, appearing to struggle with the next thought.

"And now, this promotion would make her rise the ranks in a way that was not done before," Erwin spoke, drawing in another tense sigh, "I had to know how much they knew and so I proposed the promotion—knowing full well they would deny it. Only… they didn't. Now, I'm afraid this has placed her in a more precarious situation."

The surge of violent and even murderous anger sent a force through Levi's fingers strong enough to splinter the wood of his chair, making the faux leather and wood to give a sharp whine of complaint, his teeth baring as he met Erwin's gaze with the full strength of his devotion, "There is no _fucking_ chance on this earth that I would allow them to do _anything_ to her."

Erwin lifted his hands in a soothing gesture, "I understand that and I am not saying that that is what will occur if Mikasa leaves to the evaluation—,"

"She's not going, Erwin." Levi growled.

The blond man's eyes met his subordinates eyes easily, "You are upset."

A bark of incredulous laughter shoved its way from the raven haired man's mouth to slam the full front of his disgust on his leader, "The sky is blue. I am not placing my future _wife_ under any precarious situation or chance of harm, Erwin, no sooner than you would allow the same circumstances to endanger Hanji." The mention of the woman's name brought a dark shadow over the older man's expression, the room felt as if it had dropped ten degrees in heat.

"I cannot allow you to interfere, Levi." The words forced said man to his feet, rage curling through lips in sharp gusts of ice.

"The hell I won't," he hissed.

Erwin spared him no more chances to speak, straightening in his seat to fix Levi his firmest glares, "Your reaction would only confirm these suspicions, Levi. I suggest you calm yourself."

It took every single cell in his body to keep himself from finding the closest maneuver gear and slice up the closest thing Levi had to a titan. Not for the first time in his life, Levi felt himself wish there were still some Titans left—if only to leave them in mangled ribbons of steaming meat and blood. Five seconds of breathing harshly through his nose passed before he forcibly pressed himself back down over the chair, hands gripping the armrests, already whining with the pressure of his held back rage. After another long moment, Erwin reached down to lift a paper from his desk, blue eyes scouring over the smooth surface before flicking back up to meet Levi's stubborn glare.

"We cannot allow them to believe that this separation will be enough to damage you." Erwin spoke once more, grave. "While my suspicions for her capture and possible interrogation well founded are—,"

"Interrogation?" Levi nearly exploded, yet forced his teeth to clamp down after Erwin fixed him yet another firm stare.

"It is unlikely they would ever harm her if it is shown that this connection between the both of you is sound and controlled. Her stay there would be monitored and should take no longer than a week, and it is possible they will question her for information concerning my involvement with the failed coup. If all goes well, her return would be expected as they could do nothing to hold her against her will there. For the sake of her safety, Levi, you must do nothing and stay here when she leaves for the capital."

Despite the soundness of Erwin's argument, Levi could not hold back from finding more to dispute. The very topic was making his chest feel ready to explode in flames and ice, threatening to overwhelm him with the very indignation of being told to relinquish the woman he had just recently been granted. "Why can't I go with her? Would it not make sense to ensure this so called safety if I were there to command it?"

"I cannot risk you both under their hands and control," Erwin sighed, rubbing his fingers over a temple with in an attempt to soothe an incoming headache. "You are Humanity's Strongest, but even you could not tear down the government with blades alone, should danger present itself under the face of officiality. Do you understand, Levi?"

A twitch worked its way from his contemptuous chest to find a crevice over his upper lip, lifting it as he announced with complete disdain, "Crystal clear, Erwin." In a flurry of sharp movement, Levi was pushing himself from his damaged seat to march toward the door, not even bothering to spare the military courtesy of granting his superior a salute. Boots striking wood and stone, Levi searched the room for something to distract him, if just for enough time to keep him from kicking a hole in the door. When he neared it, his eyes fell over a single strand of silver on green. A twinge of confusion was easily replaced by mute disgust.

"Levi," Erwin called once more and Levi wished he could still have the freedom to ignore it. Stilling, the man turned to appraise the broad man once more, but said nothing. "Keep this from Mikasa."

"I will not lie to her," Levi replied evenly. Erwin's eyes fell close, exasperated.

"Then say nothing, just until we know the full intent of what they have in store for her." Something snapped within him, making his chest flare with frustration and added bitterness.

"Humor me, Erwin," he said, hand reaching for the door knob. The man's thick eyebrows creased in the center before Levi turned slightly more to face him, "Was it worth it?"

"Was what worth it?"

He didn't even hold back from spitting venom through his teeth, exposing a secret they had probably hoped to keep from him. "Lying to Hanji. Was it worth it?"

Erwin fell terribly silent, blue eyes darkening with terrible dismay and even anger. With a snort, Levi shook his head and unlocked the door open, not bothering to say any more before marching out and slamming the door behind him.

That was two days ago. Two days of keeping his lips tight and firmly closed even after Mikasa took him into her arms with a curious gaze and expectant tilt of her lips. "It's confidential," Levi could say at most and while she had frowned and nodded—he could only wish he could tell her. He wanted to tell her, but knew he had to stay quiet.

Mikasa would be better prepared if she knew to expect nothing out of the usual. If the High Courts thought she knew of just an inch concerning Erwin's involvement…they would not hesitate to peel the skin off her flesh until she was left giving nothing more than her life. That alone was enough to silence him enough with the fear of losing her.

Damn it all.

Damn it all to hell.

And now… the images of her body, being thrown high against chain-link and metal shackles, tortured and bloodied sunk their teeth into his mind, seeping deep within the fears of his subconscious and making the following nights ridden with nightmares. This had been the third night in a row that his mind had strangled him with the image of her torn body.

Only… it didn't seem to find enough sick satisfaction with just tormenting him with the image of Mikasa tied to a table and beaten… it seemed to find a niche of sadistic pleasure in brutalizing him with the memory of Petra's crushed body and reminding him of yet another way Mikasa could be taken from him.

 _All you love will die._ The thought made his hands tremble against the skin of Mikasa's warm back. _If not by Titans… then by them. You cannot be allowed to be there for her. Just like Petra. Just like Petra._

"Levi… what's wrong? Tell me."

_Weakling. Filthy. If she dies, it'll be your fault._

"No," whether it was an answer to her or to the haunting whispers of his nightmares, Levi wasn't sure. "It's nothing… just nothing…" He breathed against the warmth of her neck, feeling the tears flowing from his eyes sting where his skin pressed against hers. "Let's just go to sleep."

Mikasa nodded, slowly and gently before letting out some more hushing sounds. "Alright. I'm here. I love you. I love you."

"I love you…" _I swear, I won't let anything happen to you._ He felt this darkness threatened to choke him further if he spoke more.

He cannot allow himself to say more, he couldn't. He just squeezed the woman he loves now while he attempted to erase the last image of the woman he had lost. Long moments passed and as she cradled him, Mikasa began to sing a song in a tongue he didn't know but found soothing. Before long, he was falling back asleep, heart pounding out the final beats to the melody she was humming lovingly against his ear.

_I swear it._

* * *

"Edelweiss."

Blue eyes blinked up, exposing azure curiosity swirling within the sky of warmth and gentle appraisal. Krista's pink lips curled upwards despite the light curve of her eyebrows as they tugged toward each other with some confusion. "Edelweiss?" she repeated.

"Edelweiss," her fiancé nodded, his own smile beaming down at her.

Her lips pursed as she looked down over the many flowers surrounding them, "Are you sure you don't like the marguerite?"

Armin tugged an arm to curl around his woman's waist, pressing a loving kiss to her hair. "If I have the smallest hint of a say, it must be edelweiss."

"You don't," Krista sighed, leaning her head back to allow him further access to drop his kisses to her cheeks and the curve of her jaw. "But I am curious why you would pick the edelweiss. They're not exactly grand enough to be sporting at a wedding, I think."

"Do you really want to know?" He hummed against her ear, enjoying the way her back shivered against his chest and how her hands fell to grip at the arm wrapped around her waist. Krista snuck a narrowed stare at him, trying in vain to hold back the grin from bursting through her lips. "They were the flowers that fell on your hair when I chased after you…"

She let out a small gasp before whirling around in his arms, her immense blue eyes staring up at him with new found wonderment and awe. Armin's smile melted into something softer, "They looked like stars in your hair. You looked like something off a painting…"

"That's not exactly romantic," she responded, wrinkling her nose. The Lance Corporal let out a small laugh, it didn't surprise him that she would say that. Most of the paintings they had seen had been of the kind that spread over the ceiling of the Military Court. All blood and victory and battles of war, nothing of love or its brilliance.

"I mean of the paintings depicting Sina, or Maria… powerful, beautiful…divine…" Krista's cheeks burned a bright red and her lips parted to expose pearly white teeth.

"I'm divine, am I?" She asked as she looked at him through her lashes. Armin nodded seriously, letting his other arm fall in place around her to pull her closer.

"You are my goddess," He stated simply but he could see the effect his words were leaving on her, noting how her hands rose to grasp at his lapels a little tighter, her body pressing closer against his. "And when you told me you loved me…it was nothing short of exaltation."

Krista let out a tiny snort, but was pushing up to her toes to claim his lips in a firm and loving kiss, giggling against his lips, "You're so damn full of it, Arlert."

"You love it," He chuckled before pressing his lips back over hers and enjoyed how her arms rose to wrap around his shoulders. He had to press her closer to his chest to let their lips meet properly, her feet rising from the ground the more he squeezed her to his mouth. She let out a soft groan, one of her hands reaching up to grip at his hair and tugging in a way that made him deepen their kiss despite their public appearance.

In the days that followed the set up for the wedding was going directly as planned. Armin and Krista worked closely with many of the staff in the castle, overlooking designs of flower arrangements (edelweiss it was) and what the cake would look like. They were even building a gazebo—something Krista had vehemently gone against because she didn't want to inconvenience people, but Erwin had insisted he took care of it as a sort of wedding present. The young woman had pouted with defeat, worrying this way and that because her wedding was becoming far too grand than they had originally planned.

"It's not so bad, is it?" Armin asked one night as she fussed over the color of ribbons to assign chairs. "The more people, the merrier."

"I just wanted our friends to be there…" She sighed, lifting a thin hand to rub at her temple. "Small, reverent. Not a huge thing filled with strangers. Just think of how many plates we'll have to clean up at the poltrabend!"

Armin had chuckled, scooting behind her to wrap his limbs around her tight frame, "I hear the amount of shards we pick up will be the amount of kids we'll end up having."

Krista had smiled warmly, turned and pressed a strong kiss against his lips before stoutly saying, "Armin, we've agreed. I'm only giving you four children. No more."

"Oh, come on."

"No _more._ "

"Alright, alright."

All in all it was a spectacular affair to plan, Jean had helped overlook much of the decorations being draped over the gazebo—much to Sasha and Connie's laughing expense. ("I never pegged you as a wedding planner, Jean. You look so pretty!" Connie had laughed, which earned him a fierce punch to the gut. Sasha had only received a defiant pinch to her rear, which left her squealing and kicking her boyfriend when he had reached down for a kiss.) It was humorous, honestly, because throughout those days, Jean had been right at Krista's side in helping her pick colors and offer his opinions on flower arrangements when Mikasa and Sasha had been absolute rubbish at giving their honest thoughts.

"I know nothing of flowers," Mikasa had shrugged, smiling with some embarrassment while Sasha had pulled at some of the arrangements with idiot curiosity.

"Don't you wanna just use cakes or pastries?" Sasha had offered instead, eyes brightening and drool dripping down her lip at the thought of the delicacies. "I know I would want them more than silly flowers."

Instead, Jean had swept down and picked at some of the arrangements, mixing them up in ways that made Krista's mouth fall open in awe and leave Armin staring at him with a narrow gaze that made the tall man feel defensive.

"You _must_ continue to help!" Krista had exclaimed, grabbing at Jean's hands with an expression of complete adoration. "You're perfect, Jean!"

"Oi!" Armin exclaimed, indignant, while Jean had laughed instead and got straight to work with the petite blonde. Soon enough, much of the decorations were already decided upon and it left Krista feeling relaxed enough to spend some leisurely time with Armin as they let their love express in not so secret kisses in the middle of the garden.

"Ahem…" someone cleared their throat and the two lovers smiled into their kiss, covering their laughs as they pulled away to look at their newest witness. Unsurprisingly, it was Jean, eyeing them with a flat grin and shaking his head, holding a couple of ribbons in his arms as he watched them, "You guys realize you're in public, right?"

"Very much so," Armin said, voice taking on an almost professional tone despite the mischievous grin spread over his face. Krista giggled as he let her back down on her feet, blushing prettily and pulling her hands out of his hair. "What can I do for you, Senior Cadet Kirschstein?" _he was still sore over the 'perfect' comment, it seems._

"What's with this 'senior cadet' thing, Armin?" Jean huffed, placing his hands on his hips as he gave the blond man an indignant stare, yet his own grin did not fall and the trio exchanged warm chortles. "I'll have you know I'll be receiving a promotion as well."

"Ah, but who knows when that'll be," the superior officer shrugged, turning to face their friend with a smug little grin. "Right now, I'm still your superior. Oi, Jean, go fetch me that pot of flowers!"

"You can go fucking fetch it yourself, I answer to the bride here." The brunet snorted. Before Armin could return the quip with an easy response, Krista rose bright blue eyes over to the taller man, smiling cutely.

"How are you doing, Jean?" She asked, cooing when she reached over to see the ribbons he was offering her. "Oh, these are lovely!"

Jean gave Armin yet another flat smirk, "See, that's what I call proper manners. You should let her teach you a couple things, Armin."

"Oh, I intend to." The blond said with a sly sideways wink to the girl, who reacted by lifting an arm to slap at his chest.

"Ignore him," Krista rolled her eyes, "He's just like this because I gave his ego a good stroking."

Armin cut in, grinning wolfishly, "I can't wait until I get a different kind of stroking." His fiancé's eyes widened, her blush darkening as she smacked her betrothed a little harder. Jean let out a fierce howl of laughter at the young woman's expression.

"Armin!" She chided, lifting a hand to bat away at his face, which had been leaning down to press frantic kisses against her face. "You are being really raunchy right now! Time out!"

"Aw, come on, I was only joking!" He pouted, but sighed when Krista pointed firmly toward the opposite end of the flower gardens, Jean was still laughing as he watched. Sneaking a quick peck to her lips, Armin ducked his way out of more flapping hands, laughing to himself as he walked passed Jean and the duo exchanged a brief clap of hands, Krista gave him a short huff.

The taller brunet watched the blond man walk off, still chuckling to himself as he turned to face Krista, "You've really got him trained, don't you?"

"I run a strict system of treats and punishment," She replied, grinning despite the embarrassed blush on her face. To her satisfaction, Jean let out another sharp bark of laughter, his hand rose to pat her on the head with an affectionate ruffle. "I like these colors, will they work well with the edelweiss?"

Jean's lips tightened into a pensive line, "If we throw in a bit of lace and violets, I suppose. What do you think?"

Krista nearly bounced on her toes, clapping with delight, "I think that will do splendidly! You are fantastically great at this." The tall soldier grinned again, puffing his chest out haughtily. Krista chuckled, returning the ribbons back to his arms, asking, "How have you and Sasha been, Jean?"

At the mention of the redhead, Jean's smile curled into a slightly more sheepish line, "We're…alright, I think."

"How long has it been now, three weeks?" blue eyes fell back over the arrangements of flowers around them, her hands rising to brush over the long stalks of edelweiss sitting by another pretty arrangement Jean had pointed out. He let out a long sigh, eyes rising over to the glass ceiling, pondering.

Had it been three weeks? It must have been. It was almost hilarious, really. How he had found himself really aching for her skin when he had only just tasted it not even a month prior. Her words and her ardor for new tastes and sights was refreshing for him, Jean had discovered. Which was ironic because in their earlier years, much of what she had said and done usually dug under his skin and left him rolling his eyes at her idiotic tendencies. Only now they were no longer as idiotic as he had seen them. She was still an idiot, but then again, so was he.

A flash of images coursed through his mind, his body shuddering pleasantly at the most recent series of connections he had particularly enjoyed with Sasha. Waking up to her naked body in his arms had been something he hadn't entirely expected, since she usually left his room late at night while he slept and leaving him to wake alone. He had been surprised, but not at all disturbed by how their relationship was moving on, and it was in his arms that she had snuggled against him, blinked bleary sleep clogged eyes up at him before grunting, "Close the stupid curtains, would you?"

It hadn't been much of a warm greeting to start the day, but it had been enough for his chest to feel warm, his belly to quiver with an emotion he wasn't quite sure what to name. Sure enough, he had reached over, tugged the curtains close and snuggled back on the bed where her arms were waiting to envelop him. Not ten minutes later she was sitting up over him, his fingers gliding over her bare side before she was leaning down to press soft kisses against his mouth, her hips wiggling over his and making him hiss out the sensations of delight and intoxication.

"How's your face?" She had asked, more to tease him since his bruise had already healed. In retaliation to her snarky grin he had flipped them over and gave a nice strong thrust that had her screaming.

"Better than you will be when I'm through with you," He had growled against her and Sasha was throwing her head back, laughter sprinkling her moans and sighs. While they had moved in hard, practically primal movements, their kisses were softer, laced with passion and filling him with a sensation that made him feel whole whenever she blinked those butterscotch eyes at him, drunk with the ecstasy he was providing her.

When they finished she would press a kiss to the area near his ear before softly sighing, "I love you…"

She had been doing that since the third night they had slept together and each night since. He would only press his lips to her neck in response, and while at first he had felt his chest clench with uncertainty in the past…this morning he could only feel himself grow happier when she had confessed her love to his ear again.

_I…I think I love you too…_

Only three and a half weeks and Jean found himself truly worshiping the woman in his arms, and when the thought had crossed his mind and teased the back of his tongue—demanding to be spoken—he had found that Sasha Braus had definitely wormed her way into his heart. He just wasn't sure how to admit it, unfortunately.

"Yeah, I would say." He said, clearing his throat again upon realizing Krista was still staring up at him. "Probably a bit more, we kind of got together about a week before the whole Levi and Mikasa shenanigans happened." Krista beamed again, pleased. "It's pretty crazy, actually. Time just flew by…"

The short blonde woman let out a soft sigh, turning to face him and lean on the table of arrangements, her hands playing with the hem of her uniform, "You're telling me. It's kind of hard to believe I'm getting married next week…"

Jean's amber eyes crinkled softly, tugging his hands into his pockets. "You really love him, don't you?"

She blinked in surprise, one of her hands rising to brush the usual blonde strand that fell over her face to rest behind an ear, her blush making her glow. "I really do."

Jean gave her a soft nod before letting out another sigh before a crash alerted their attention to the side. They both turned to where Armin's frame stood, his hands working frantically to pick up a fallen pot of large Calla Lilies, strewn and broken over the ground as he tried to hoist the plants back up, exclaiming, "I'm okay! It's fine, I got this! Don't come help me!"

Krista giggled into a curled hand, "Can you go help him? He's kind of useless."

Jean smirked wide again before pressing another warm ruffle over her head, "You got it, future Mrs. Arlert." Krista smiled a little wider at his words, looking more beautiful than Jean could ever remember she was. _Well done, Armin. You scored big time, buddy._

Another crash sounded and Armin's voice filtered through the room with a sharp cry, yet another pot had fallen, only this time it had fallen on top of him, placing him on his back and left him wriggling like a crushed mouse. " _Ack!_ Never mind what I said, please come help me!"

Krista squeaked, sprinting off in the direction of her fallen fiancé, "Armin!"

"The hell did you freaking do, Arlert?!" Jean sighed, rolling his eyes. _How you scored, I've no clue, you stupid blond._

* * *

_Since my days as a young kid, Armin had always been a weepy kid who often got his ass handed to him._

No…that won't do.

_Since I was a kid, Armin was always the sort of kid that could handle himself real well in a fight._

Okay, that's obviously a lie.

Eren scowled, dark brows yanking toward the bridge of his nose as he grabbed the newest draft of his speech as Best Man and crumbled it into a ball. Tossing the reject over his shoulder where the others lay discarded, the young man let out a sigh that burst like a raspberry through unamused lips.

"What was he thinking…?" Eren grumbled, tapping his pencil against the firm wood of his desk, leg bouncing against the ground in aggravated rhythms as he wracked and wracked his brain for the right words. A small bead of sweat fell from his hairline to fall into his left eye, making him grunt, irate. Pushing himself off the desk, Eren let out a disgusted snort before heading over to the window of the infirmary. With a firm grip, he tugged at the window's stubbornly closed frame, grumbling incoherent phrases to himself. The door of the infirmary squealed open, surprising him enough to jolt and make his hands give an extra yank hard enough to nudge the stuck window panes just right.

"Eren? Ah—Eren, I wouldn't—!" He heard too late. The window pane screeched open before slamming against the wall, nearly tearing off the titan shifter's nose in the process and letting rip a strong and chilled breeze into the room. The sound of papers fluttering in a mad spin of wind and white sent an alarmed exclamation to burst from his mouth.

Whirling around, he could see Mikasa was already catching a few of them, hair whipping around her face and red scarf slapping over her eyes at the abrupt gale. "Ah, shit!" Eren eloquently cursed, throwing himself back over to his desk and scrambling to pick up papers and even catching his pencil as it rolled off the wood.

"Here, let me…" Mikasa sighed.

"I got it!" Eren huffed, their hands bouncing against each other the more they attempted to pick up the mess. The breeze finally seemed to stop its barrage against the window, allowing the two to continue where they had left off.

"Idiot," He snapped, more to himself as he yanked the drawer of his desk open before shoving the papers inside and away from the wind's greedy fingers. "I can never think things through, can I?"

The raven haired woman let out a soft chuckle, lifting up the clean stack of papers she had gathered and placing it within the desk's open maw. With another huff, Eren looked to see the crumbled balls of rejected speeches spread over the infirmary's stone floor, nose wrinkling with distaste at their innocent appearance and deciding to toss himself on his assigned bed.

"Thanks, I guess…" He muttered, pressing an arm to cover his eyes.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Mikasa hummed, walking to sit at his side. "Armin told me you're going to be his best man at the wedding." Eren fixed her a flat stare over his draped arm, slightly bristling by the light way she had approached the topic. As if it was, honestly, no big deal. _It's a very big deal._

"Yeah, well he should reconsider and ask Jean to do it," the brunet grumbled, realizing he was still holding on to the thin pencil. Twirling the little stick, Eren let out another thin sigh, sounding properly defeated. "I can't come up with a stupid speech and that horseface is sprouting golden wedding arrangements out of his ass like he's a fucking rainbow or something."

"It is pretty impressive," She added, making Eren's frown morph into a scowl before he tore his mind away from the thought of Jean spinning circles around his head, grinning that haughty smirk of his as he made Krista squeal with delight, bringing pretty thing after pretty thing to her.

The mattress dipped and the scent of soap, light cologne and lavender played at his nose. He sent a sideways glance, pursing his lips when he saw Mikasa laying next to him, facing the ceiling with a small smile. For a second, he wanted to comment on recognizing the cologne—knowing full well who its true owner was—but he didn't quite want to jump into that pool quite yet. Another thought swirled in his mind, making him note curiously how, despite the knowledge the scent was not usual on her person, it did not seem to take away from her essence. In fact, it seemed to compliment it without seeming overbearing.

Sure, it was still pretty weird to see Mikasa so close to Captain Levi… a part of him was still reeling because he once remembered seeing her face look so dark and hateful at the very mention of the short officer, and so seeing her look so at peace and sporting the man's light scent against her skin was enough to make his experience oddly turn on itself. However… there was an obvious stirring that made Eren want to smile. He had only ever seen the Captain smile once, before the new squad had formed, and that was in the presence of Petra and Auruo, Gunther and Erd. At the time it had appeared so strange, to see such a brutal man's lips turned in the ghost of something closely resembling contentment.

Now, when Eren saw them in each other's company, the ghost had taken proper form into a pleased and light grin, his eyes brightening whenever Mikasa walked through the threshold of a door or spoke his name in public. Weird? Absolutely. But it was also a nice change that made Eren feel like things were truly progressing.

It might take him a while, but he was certain he would get used to seeing his the girl he had grown to call his sister look so happy and smell so different now that she was with the man he had also grown to accept as a role model, a friend, and a brother in arms.

Slowly, Eren lifted his arms to press behind his head in a makeshift support, ignoring the obvious presence of the pillow to his left. Mikasa's hands rose to rest at her belly, fingers tapping relaxed rhythms against her clothed skin, "You'll do a great job, Eren." She said after a silent moment of enjoying each other's presence.

Another snort pressed against his throat and he fought the urge to roll his eyes loudly, "Give me a break, I'm no good at this." Another breeze pushed through the open window, making the frame squeak as it swung lazily, back and forth. It was cool, just slightly warmer than the last barrage had been, and it played at their clothes and tugged at their hair. With a thin sigh, Eren frowned, "I should just tell Armin I can't do it."

"Don't," Mikasa replied and he heard the fabric of his sheets rustle as she turned her head to look at him. "You say you're no good at speeches, but I remember you saying some pretty moving things back when we were trainees, and even after you had managed to inspire a lot of people."

Green eyes turned to face the sincere press of onyx, she smiled softly, "You may not have noticed, Eren, but there had been many who hadn't wanted to join the corp. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone there wanted to stick to the Garrison. You changed their minds, Eren. You spoke honestly and passionately, and you were able to inspire many to experience sights outside the walls when all they've known is the safety within them."

Something in his chest dipped, making him feel strangely sheepish as he looked away, "That was different. I was angry. I can't exactly scream at everyone and tell them how much Armin and Krista being together is going to change everything…"

Mikasa laughed softly, "No, you can't, and by all means you shouldn't."

He grinned, wiggling to nudge her head with his elbow as she chuckled, probably picturing him yelling at everyone during the reception before bursting off into a run and escaping the room. "Shut up, I was fifteen."

"What I'm saying is," Mikasa said after her silent giggles subsided, "Don't be afraid of letting the right words come up. You'll know them when it's time."

Tan lips pursed, musing as he let his gaze fall back over the stone ceiling, green gaze following the curls and turns of the swirls of minerals within the rocks above. "So you're saying I should wing it?"

Mikasa shrugged before sitting back up, another breeze making her scarf fall back over her face and she smiled when Eren let out a huff of laughter. "No," She denied before tugging the pencil from behind his head where his hand still held it. "I'm saying you shouldn't force the speech. By all means, write it down and make sure it's good. Levi would say, 'make everyone cry like the bitches they are' and I would agree."

Eren smirked at the mention of the Captain, quietly agreeing to the potential comment and accepting it while Mikasa placed the pencil behind his ear. Yet at the mention of her lover, Mikasa's smile seemed to strain, as if weighed by something unknown. Eren nearly frowned. Before he could register the slight change in her expression she was reaching over a gentle hand for his forehead, fingertips brushing gently at his sweat stained skin.

For a moment he just watched her, letting the urge to bat her hand away fall apart as he let her brush the long strands of his hair out of his eyes. It was an action the reminded him a lot of the gentle fussing of his mother, how she would worry and rake gentle fingers through his scalp to make him look less scruffy. Back then, Eren had thrown a small arm up, pushing his doting mother's hands away in a fit of frustration. Regret and longing stained at the back of his throat and he wondered how if this is how it would feel had Karla survived and let her son sigh against her fingers.

 _I took you for granted, mom_ … he thought, feeling the longing cake at his throat, bitter and making him wish she were alive now if only to help him with this small, stupid thing. Would she listen as he cried? Soothe gentle words into his ear as he exclaimed his anger at being told he wasn't allowed to marry, that people still saw him as a beast that could bite them? Would she still look at him with the caring acceptance of a mother despite the beast that raged within him? Would she listen as he bore his heart out and wept for the only woman who had seen straight through him and made him experience the pangs of such horrid love?

Another thought pierced through him. In an ideal world, if Annie and Bertholdt, Reiner and Ymir survived and her mother was still around to know them… would she had accepted them as she had accepted Mikasa? Would she had smiled and teased her son while he stared in longing at the blonde woman with the aquiline nose? Would she had fussed over what suit he should wear, had this world permitted him to ask Annie for her hand?

"Mikasa," Eren spoke, feeling the words and his worries begin to turn and turn into the urge to express everything over his tongue. He pushed himself to his elbows, readying himself to speak and to finally tell her of his feelings concerning everything; of Annie, of the stares of all the soldiers since then.

"What is it?" She asked when he trailed off and something in him hesitated. Stopped before it could begin. Instead, the sensation fell like a tide, dropping back into his chest to be hidden within the box that was his broken heart. Smiling, he changed his mind, dropping his chin to let his eyes fall elsewhere, "You've changed a lot," he said.

"How so?"

"You seem…softer…" green eyes opened to meet the expression of light confusion on her face. "Before you were like a weapon. I always felt my anger in my blood, hot and boiling. But you, I always figured you let yourself feel your anger through your swords. Now, you seem less like a piece of metal and more like…I dunno, a cloud or something."

The surprise in her gaze slowly gave into another smile, exposing teeth and making her look particularly charming. Shaking her head, Mikasa uttered, "And you say you can't give a proper speech. Although, is a cloud really the best you can come up with?" He almost gave in to the urge to heft a leg up against her hip and kick her off just to see how she would react.

"Shut up, go away." He huffed and she was reaching over to push at his leg, before she was standing and walking away.

"Let me know if you need any help editing," She called over her shoulder, "I'm afraid you'll need it."

Eren wished she wasn't so fast at times, because he really hoped that the pillow he threw at her would've landed on her face rather than fall flat on the floor, her body spinning away with nonchalant grace and a single tongue sticking out of her mouth in teasing spite.

"Bring me some food!" He shouted.

"You can get it yourself," she replied and the door was sliding shut behind her as she walked off. Eren's face contorted in a series of mocking expressions, mumbling ' _get it yourself_ ' in falsetto and nasally tones before he twisted back to rest on his stomach. Another breeze picked up, forcing the pencil against his ear to fly off, forcing Eren to scramble off his bed to go get it before it rolled away.

"Oh, you stupid piece of wooden shit," He snarled after it.

Before he could snatch it back up, the door slid open once more, exposing Mikasa's head and bright smile, "Oh, also," She piped up, catching Eren's attention. "Connie and Jean are curious as to what your plans are for Armin's bachelor night, but Jean had said you probably forgot. I told him you didn't so you better have something good because they're waiting for you downstairs."

Eren froze, the pencil rolling away under a cot as she closed the door after her, leaving him squatting on the ground and staring at the door with wide green eyes. The Bachelor night… he had completely forgotten about the bachelor night…

" _Oh shit._ "

* * *

For a moment, everything was blurred. Colors smudged together over definite lines and curves of objects, playing with the edges of silver eyed periphery and distorting the view at large. Slender fingers rose to rub at the corners, a soft exclamation of irritation falling from a pair of small lips.

"Shit," she said gruffly, reaching down to search for the glasses that had fallen from her nose. Rico chewed her lip, her other hand tightening over the leather straps that would secure her vision intact, while she leaned forward to find it. With how the cart moved, she worried it would take drastic measures to find her fallen glasses.

A voice from outside the moving carriage piped in, "Everything alright, sir?"

"I'm fine, Lieutenant, fine." She replied, curt and annoyed, fingers grazing over the rough carpet and stumbling over uneven planks of the worn wood. Reaching a little further, she let out a thin growl when her transportation gave a quick jerk, the clopping of the horse's hoofs picking up pace and finding a quartered rhythm. To her relief, the sudden movement that nearly toppled her to her face had been enough to bring back the familiar frame of her spectacles within her grasp. Before they slid away, she snatched them up and straightened in her seat.

Blurred colors and line sharpened into defined shapes and figures the moment she slid the glasses back over her ears. "Are we close?" She asked through the open window, hands reaching up to tie the leather around the legs of her glasses and securing the thong comfortably against her scalp.

"We're just arriving, sir." The lieutenant replied, nodding from his saddle on his horse.

Rico felt her stomach give an uncomfortable dip, dousing her senses with the acrid trembling of anxiety and self-consciousness. It was not the first she had felt such a numbing sensation spread over her limbs, rendering her close to a shaky mess. It had been a shock and a pain the first time she had received her matched result. Her commanding officer—Kitts Verman—had called her in specifically to his office that day, three weeks ago and when she had arrived, she had been surprised to had seen the familiar towering presence of Commander Pixis.

For a moment, Rico had feared the absolute worst and thought she had been matched with the old war veteran, but judging by his warm smile and chuckling voice that suspicion was quickly put to death. _"I'm far too old to contribute to this mandate, Squad Leader Brzenska," Pixis had chuckled, laughter rolling in his throat. "Your match is not I, so rest easy."_

_The silver haired woman turned back to look at Commander Verman, uncertain and even apprehensive. "Has something gone wrong, sirs?"_

" _No, to the contrary," the bald leader stood, moving to gaze out the window of the office, arms crossed behind his back. "Something has gone most certainly well." Turning back, he had fixed her a most curious smile, "You will definitely think so later on."_

 _I'm not sure this qualifies…_ Rico thought as she turned a sharp gaze over to the horizon. They carriage had gone over a wide curve in the road and the large Castle of the Survey Corp appeared within sight, sending another burst of adrenaline and anxiety through her stomach, turning her organs into writhing worms.

" _You have been matched to Commander Erwin Smith," the way he had said it seemed as if it were no more than a simple appointment. A meeting between two soldiers that would exchange information before going their separate ways. Rico knew full well that this was probably the best way anyone could address the issue. This was not a time to get emotional. Emotions had no space in chess, much less in war._

_Judging by how they spoke to her, Rico could guess full well this war was not over._

" _Don't be afraid," The old man said, gently and it only occurred to her that she had been gripping tightly to the file that held the information of her match and the picture that followed. Her grip slackening, she cleared her throat softly, feigning composure despite the rattling against her ribcage. "The Commander is a good man, decent and dedicated. Ruthless, you may have seen him, but that has been in darker times. Believe me when I say that I know him well enough to offer these words as more than just hapless comforts."_

" _I am not one to concern myself with matters of the heart, Commander." Rico replied as evenly as she could. "This is for the greater good, and if he has been chosen to be the man that will sire my children, then I will accept no higher honor."_

" _Excellent words," Verman spoke, his gruff voice scratching in agreeable tones that left her wanting to grip at something, just to keep from shattering. She had always disliked this sullen eyed man… "Had I not told you she is an excellent choice match for Commander Smith? She is truly a leader of the elite."_

_Pixis' eyes did not blink with any hint of impressive scrutiny, merely watched her as the other man dropped embellished praise after praise. In response, Rico remained silent until the older man rose a hand to end his colleague's rant. Thank God._

" _Squad Leader Brzenska," Pixis rumbled. She straightened in her chair. "Walk with me a moment." The request was sudden and unusual, earning him strange glances from both officers. Sure enough, his boots picked up a pace through the room that had her pushing off her seat to give chase and follow, offering her commander a brief salute before exiting with the other man._

_As they made their way through the open halls, Rico waited silently, glancing at the man ahead with the makings of a frown. She had worked and taken orders from him before being transferred under the command of Kitts Verman—it had been a most undesirous position, having to take orders from that coward of a man, but she knew her place… as did everyone who had lived and died through the war. To say she respected Pixis was an understatement, she would trust her life without regret to this man as many of the calls he had made in the past had achieved grander results than the foolish reckonings of other soldiers._

" _This is a precarious situation we are in, Rico," Pixis spoke, steps wide and broad, echoing off the stone and bouncing off the walls around them. It was almost eerie, how each step and sound seemed to reflect the erratic train that was her mind and heart. She frowned._

" _Sir?"_

" _But not entirely a bad one," He continued, as if not hearing her confusion. "This is actually a good development, all things considered I believe we will be able to benefit more with this match than any other."_

" _I'm not sure I follow, sir."_

_Pixis slowed to a stop, his gaze falling over the bright canvas of the late evening sky, pinks and oranges contrasted by the gray and whites of the clouds above before sinking into the deep blues of the incoming evening. It was a handsome sight to be sure, but Rico couldn't bring herself to enjoy it. Everything felt so numb._

" _I need you to write a letter to the Commander, Rico. A very specific letter."_

Silver eyes blinked in the direction of a simple envelope hidden within the pocket of her cloak and jacket, scowling and wondering at the contents within. Her first letter had been a simple enough thing to construct. It sounded much like how she would approach the subject of meeting a future husband. It would have been an easy enough script of prose as it was… if it had not been for the fact that the Commander had been with her as she wrote it, expressing quite privately exactly how to phrase certain sentences and the like. Rico was no idiot, she knew what he was attempting to do, and knowing full well that what she was writing would only be understood by one pair of eyes and would seem to all others as a letter between strangers.

Soon after she had mailed off her letter, Rico was being prepared to be sent off. What little belongings she had, she had packed away and while it was uncertain she would be officially moving from the Garrison to the Survey Corp, she still packed her uniform that proudly bore the patches of the thorned Roses. She would still wear the choice she had made, and if Erwin was kind, he would allow her to keep her alliances to the men and women who no longer protected walls but protected people.

" _Keep this safe." Pixis had whispered to her ear, sliding the folder between her jacket and shirt as he had pulled her in into an abrupt embrace. No one had questioned the exchange as everyone knew the Commander had eccentric tendencies and ways of approaching many of his subordinates—Rico realized then that this was not a products of age, but of brilliant tact. For who would suspect a crazy but brilliant old man of plot? "Do not open it until you are in his presence and his alone. Trust no one but him and the people he points out to you. I leave this in your hands."_

She was a messenger. She knew this much. She could see now exactly how this match was advantageous. She would work as Erwin's future wife to the Monarchy's eyes, but remain faithful only to the duties they pressed upon her. It was something secret, something she would be aware of in fragments, but it gave her a sense of empowerment that would otherwise be lost within the tumult of orders and responsibilities.

What exactly is happening, Rico was unsure of, but if it meant a chance to fight back against this new found predator, she would not hesitate to assist in its ultimate fall.

For now… she needed to get out of this goddamn carriage.

"Lieutenant," she called and the man on the horse next to her side of the cart gave her an acknowledging nod. "Switch with me. You look like you could use a rest from riding."

The officer gawked in surprise, "Eh…? Uh, oh, sir, I don't think that's acceptable."

"Why not?" Rico huffed, she needed to get out of this confining space. There was something about being within the carriage that made her feel like she was being dragged to her fate rather than letting her feel as if she were doing so willingly. "Let me get on a horse."

"Uh…"

Rico leaned closer, feeling her nerves begin to fray when the cart gave an unexpected wobble. This mandate had taken more of her than all her years living as a soldier. She had seen friends die, had heard their screams echo within the walls of her mind. Now she had to submit to a rule that continued to impede a freedom that had been fought for and well overdue. If she had to do so for the sake of humanity, she would accept it. Damn the person who got in the way of what control she had left. One way or another, she was getting off that cart and riding to her destination on her terms. It was the most she could get and the least she deserved.

"That's an order, Lieutenant. _Get me a horse._ "

* * *

A thin strand of silver, cradling within makeshift wings a small green gem—an emerald—and the last he had of what women he loved. Within its smallest links, it held the gentle mercies of words and promises he had made, exchanged, kept, and broke. Within the stone, reflecting in broken fragments of light, were the many memories he had poured within its smooth surface, the names and faces that had changed him. Made him into the man he was now. Would he be better or worse, if not for them...?

Maria…

Elise…

Hanji.

Love is cruel, is it not?

" _You know," bright blue eyes peered up at him. He had been so young, so foolish. "I care…but if you don't move, I can't follow you."_

_A hazel stare met his with surprise, smiling gently as a slim hand fidgeted with the trinket that would become a memoir, "I want you to have this. To remember me and all the love you will ever feel after."_

_Brown eyes stared into his own intensely, seeking past the derelict state of his mind and reaching through to the man with the iron will, "Don't you give up, Commander. You have that title now. You. Not anyone else. Make it count."_

Air fell through lips in a cold gust, mirroring the tugs and pulls of the wind outside his windows. The panes and glass shook, rattling and creaking as the sky rolled deep with dark grays and shades of cyan. It was nearly mid afternoon and he was alone. The nights had passed and where summer had once scalded him, now its vacancy reminded him too much of the empty space in his bed.

" _I have one question, Erwin."_ Hanji had said, voice blank of all emotion, save the dangerous gleam curving within eyes that had gazed at him once with so much love and affection. "One question and I expect an honest fucking answer. I hope you can manage it."

There was ice and frost spreading where the heat of love had burned within them. It spread far into his throat and tightening its cold fingers through the atriums of his heart, making each pulse of his organ feel like it was beating to stay from being frozen. It was a losing battle, he knew. He was already dying, the final blow to his chest had been made when his eyes landed upon the curves of roses over the letter in her stiffened hand.

He said nothing, only feeling his chin pull his head down and up in a small yet clear nod of agreement. Their summer was over. Their smiles and exchanged laughter would now be like the trinket hanging from her neck. Just a place where memories would find solace within the green rock resting within the silver embrace.

"Why did you lie?" her voice was so cold, empty, vacant of emotion and yet when he lifted his gaze to meet hers, he could see the crushed hopes and even betrayal pierce through her deep irises of brown to stab at the organ struggling to work within his chest.

Erwin could only let his gaze fall, shamed and caught. _"Was it worth it?" Levi's words would only serve as more knives to crush him to his sin._

He had only wanted to hold on to her just a bit longer. He just wanted to hold her a little bit more, enjoy what last traces of her skin he could have before all was said and done. Was he not human as well?

"Erwin," his name sounded so vile against her tongue, because he knew how much it pained her to say it. Her eyes tightened, lips gave the smallest of trembles before she took several steps forward and dumped the envelopes on his desk. With static movement, he reached for the envelope addressed to him from the Garrison, pulling out the document and like the same betrayal he had cast, his eyes fell to the name at the end of the page. " _Why did you lie_?"

His body moved, all manner of livelihood was gone, taken with violent judgement by the tone in her voice, the pain in her eyes. Wood scraped against metal, sighing and hushing as he opened a drawer and removed the file holding his name on its corner. The wretched seal of red against white was like a peal of cruel laughter to his eyes, pointing at him with a leering grin through the maw of the lion within its creases.

Slowly opening it, he pulled out the photo of the woman with silver hair and eyes that matched the hue and exposed unknown character. "It arrived on time."

Hanji's fist slammed over his desk, the strike sounding loud even to his ears and he wondered how much more force had she wanted to exert to truly cause damage. "That's not what I fucking asked you…" She hissed. Something wet struck the smooth surface near the file, Erwin could feel himself begin to fall apart, hating himself for not being able to bear the sight of her crying face.

"Answer ME!" She finally shouted, voice breaking in the back of her throat and coming out half a sob. Blue eyes closed tight, fingers clenched shut as he heard her pant out broken breaths. "Why…?" she was shattering, he could feel it and he wanted to pull her close but knew he had no right to do so.

She was no longer his. Their relationship had already been doomed, and because of his selfishness, he had committed the final act of murder upon their love.

"…I'm sorry." He whispered and she was pushing herself away from his desk, clamping a hand over her mouth to silence a pained cry. It didn't matter how hard she bit down on her cheeks or lips, he would hear her anyway. She took a step back, and his body was leaning forward, blue eyes lifting to meet her down turned face. "Please, Hanji… forgive me."

He did not deserve her forgiveness, her acceptance to an apology that should have never been made for something that should have never been done. She knew this. He knew this. Her fist rose, planting itself against her chest in a final salute. Her stance was perfect, shoulders back, chest firm and legs planted straight to the ground, but her face refused to meet his and with a final nod, Hanji turned and walked away.

Fifteen steps. Fifteen steps took her from his desk to the door. Fifteen steps that took her from the happiness and laughter only she could inspire to the exit out of his life. Erwin could not hold back as he pushed from his chair to stand, doing nothing but reaching for her even as she walked.

"Hanji…!" Her name had been a supplication. The last pleading for his life, for his happiness.

She stopped and for a moment he hoped she would turn around, sob and run into his arms, to grant him absolution.

Instead, her hands slowly rose and it was as if time had slowed to narrow all his focus and attention into the movement of her hands, reaching past her chest—

_No._

–Toward her neck—

_Stop. Don't do this._

—To tug at the clasp against her nape, and even from fifteen steps away, Erwin could hear the sound of silver unclasping like it was a thunder clap in his ears. Her shoulders hunched, shaking with the silence of her decision before she reached over and placed the necklace over the surface of the table nearest the door.

"This should go to your wife," She said and she was gone.

" _Was it worth it?"_

Even now he could not answer, not to Levi, not even to the shadows, or to himself. God forbid, he had been unable, struck blind, dumb, deaf and mute at how _bloody incapable_ he was of doing so to the only woman that mattered to him even now. Especially now.

A firm knock struck his door, startling him from his reverie and the agony that had been recounting the past few days alone, of the last he saw of Hanji. "Commander Erwin, sir!" Keiji's voice filtered in. Fingers squeezed tightly over the long strand of silver, before reaching and placing it deep within the pocket closest to his heart.

"Yes, Keiji," He said, clearing his throat and donning the only mask he knew was comfortable now. "Come in."

The door swung open, revealing the familiar figure of one of his lieutenants. The man walked in followed by another set of footsteps behind him. Keiji gave his commanding officer a firm salute before gesturing to the figure that followed. Silver hair and glasses that framed the flat stare of the woman the government deemed to be his future wife—she was shorter than he remembered…or maybe he just didn't remember.

"Commander Smith," her voice reached him, simple yet strong and she was raising a fist to her chest in a strong salute. The action alone nearly made him break down, teasing at his stronghold and daring him to lose it. Erwin was steel. "Rico Brzenska of the Elite Squads of the Garrison. I am honored."

With a nod, he encouraged her in, and numbly felt his body rise to move around the desk. She looked uncertain and even slightly intimidated by his stare yet she did not hesitate in walking closer to him. Fifteen steps. He counted.

Oh, how he hated himself.

"Rico," Erwin said and had no idea he would be able to move his face, let alone smiled. This mask seemed to come with the option of autopilot. _Keep it together. Breathe._ "It is a pleasure to meet you."

He extended a hand.

" _Hey, Erwin," Hanji hummed next to him, her fingers trailing roads through his hair as he let his eyes pour over a book. He should have been letting his eyes pour over hers. "Do you remember Chikachironi?"_

_He let out a soft 'hn' of acknowledgement. "Was he the Titan with the smile you thought was cute?" she would be the first to ever think their smiles were anything less than adorable. No doubt those same smiles haunted the dreams of the toughest soldiers. Not Hanji. Never Hanji._

" _That's the one!" Hanji grinned, letting her fingers fall to his jaw and turning his chin to better see his face, brown eyes beaming up at him with life and love. "Do you think if I ever had a kid, his smile would be that cute?"_

" _Heaven forbid," Erwin had exclaimed, laughing when she had rolled her eyes before leaning to press a kiss against his lips. "If you ever have a kid, I hope he ends up looking more like you than a Titan."_

" _Or she," She corrected and Erwin could feel her return the smile that curled the corners of his lips._

" _Or she." He amended._

A soft hand landed in his grip, small and calloused but smoother than the grip he had gotten used to. Silver eyes turned from their joined hands to meet his blue gaze. She shifted her hand just a bit, as if getting used to the sensation. He didn't know whether to smile or cave when her hold seemed to mold against his in an angle he felt was almost natural—he chose to feel nothing.

"I look forward to getting to know you," how did the words fall so easily? He didn't bother figuring it out. It didn't matter.

Only… silver eyes softened, as if confirming a suspicion or putting to rest a hidden fear. "Likewise."

The weight of his smile was nothing to the weight resting against his chest, hidden within his pocket and resting within a silver chain and one lone emerald that was now a memoir.

It was so cold.


	6. Poltrabend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There was nothing wrong with being a homebody. There was nothing wrong with not wanting - not needing - the constant jostle and noise of a party or bar or... whatever."  
> ― Charles de Lint, Jack of Kinrowan: Jack the Giant-Killer and Drink Down the Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polterabend (sometimes pronounced Poltrabend)--is the term for a German wedding custom in which on the night(or fortnight) before the wedding, the guests break porcelain to bring luck to the couple's marriage.
> 
> This chapter's inspired tracks are: All I Needed by Keith Kenniff, La valse d'Amélie by Yann Tiersen, We Move Lightly by Duston O'halloran, Meryton Townhall and The Living Sculptures of Pemberly by Dario Marianelli from the Pride and Prejudice Soundtrack.

There was a definite writhing in his gut, like someone had stuffed him full of rabbits or mice. Scratching, itching, biting and tickling all while Connie fought to keep his face completely emotionless, but that was nearly impossible when Jean was staring at him with his mouth dropped open like a gutted fish, or something.

"I'm sorry," the taller soldier pronounced slowly, eyes squinting as if not properly registering the information being processed. "I don't think I heard you right. Are you trying to tell me that Li—,"

Connie's eyebrow twitched, "Not trying. I am telling you."

Jean pressed on, "That Li—rude, blunt, upside down headed _Li_ —grabbed you by the jacket and kissed you brain dead stupid?"

The memory came, unbidden and unwanted, shooting his skin through with a fierce shiver and a strange sensation to pool at the base of his stomach. "Do I look like I'm making this shit up, Jean?" he snapped, waving an arm up in an attempt to dispel some of the nerves tearing through his stomach like Military Pig newspaper. This was a bad idea. Connie realized that all too well now. Amber eyes sliding close, the buzz cut leaned back on his chair, tossing his fork on his plate, untouched and no longer appetizing.

The spiky haired man stared at him with a strange expression on his face, resembling that of disbelief and borderline amusement. Finally, after an extremely long moment of senseless staring that made Connie slowly want to throttle the man across from him, Jean let out a short huff of a sigh and his lips tensed in that certain way that Connie had gotten used to seeing when the guy was trying his damnedest to not burst out laughing. Bastard.

"Okay, then." Jean agreed, bobbing his head a bit too energetically, to not seem like he was doing more than just humor the other soldier. He seemed to realize that his companion was catching on to his inability to commit to seriousness because he was reaching down to shove some meatloaf into his mouth. "Alright, then." He mumbled through a mouthful of meat.

Connie could feel the descent into madness approach through the severe desire to split Jean's grinning head open. He didn't expect anything less from him. Granted, he did make fun of the brunet when he had seen him sporting all manner of ribbons and lace around his arms and tugged into his pockets. Relying on him something as emotionally frustrating as the kiss that should have never happened had been a good idea just twenty minutes earlier when Connie saw Li walking out of the stables.

He had been busy trying to think of the requirements for their weekly room inspections when he turned a corner, and lo and behold, Li was on the other side of the clearing ahead, accompanied by a taller girl that could not be anyone else but her sister. It was simple enough to deduct; the girl had the same auburn hair, same physical attributes (aside from being taller, and having her hair up in a ponytail). She was waving her arms about, explaining something he could not catch—mostly because he was struck dumb with shock, and partly because of the distance—when he saw Li glance up. Those green eyes only had to meet his from across the few yards that separated them before they were widening in equal surprise and shock. All too immensely, he had been struck by the fiercest urge to run and hide.

So he did.

The second Li's eyes blinked away to focus on something her sister was saying, Connie hightailed it out of there, heart jumping to his throat and the memory of Li's tongue caressing his lip forcing his knees to wobble and nearly cave mid-sprint. It had been enough to send him in an urgent frenzy of internal screaming and ramblings.

Three days since that unfortunate event. Three days since that stupid, freaking kiss and Li had all but disappeared, leaving him to contemplate her motives and thrusting him into a spiral of confused anger that made sleeping the nights that followed nearly impossible. For those three days, Connie attempted to go back to regular life. He had attempted in pushing the entire thing out of his mind, had tried his best to exercise his body to the point of failure, to leave him so physically exhausted that the memory would have no way of working its way to the front of his mind.

What was worse, when he _finally_ thought he was good and alright, composed and focused, all he had to see was the color auburn and green together (which shocked him with how many people had that hair color or that shade of eye color, because apparently there were a _lot_ ) and he was thrown back to that moment where Li was hissing against his lips before plunging her tongue into his mouth.

The very worst part—the absolute, most terribly terrifying part of the whole ordeal—was when he had been tossing and turning in his bed and his mind conjured up images in his sleep that jolted his body with shock. Images that consisted him grabbing at her waist instead of pushing at her wrists, pulling her hot and tight against his chest and slamming her back against the table of that small room, kissing her back with such hard passion she was moaning against his throat, bucking her hips against his and eliciting a friction that made him painfully hard…

Sweat drenched and gasping, Connie had all but thrown himself off his bed and headed straight to the showers for a cold soak. A very cold soak.

Two nights of cold showers and he was seeing no results. And when he finally turned and saw her stupid face, with her stupid green eyes and her stupid auburn hair, the sensations returned with an almighty vengeance.

Dammit. _Dammit._

_Damn it all._

He needed a confidant. He needed to tell someone about what had happened. Armin was probably off snogging his future wife, Eren was still avoiding them (Connie didn't blame him. Jean did sort of turn into a grinning douche when Mikasa ended up appearing to them with a note that stated in the titan shifter's script – ' _I'm still working on the plans for the bachelor night. Leave me alone._ ') And not to be prejudiced against the girls, but he couldn't exactly confide this to any of them without feeling disgustingly shy about it.

God forbid he try to take this to Captain Levi… while he respected him well enough as a leader and even a role model, just the thought of seeing the older man lift a brow with surprise made Connie want to curl up and die.

So… Jean it was.

Only, the rate the tall soldier was trying to force back the urge to laugh was making the idea of talking to the Dragon Captain seem like a less humiliating option, at the moment.

Jean let out a hard snort, doubling over to cover his mouth before his food spewed from his grinning maw. Connie felt his face flush with both anger and mortification. Slamming a fist on the table, he leaned forward, trying to catch the laughing man's gaze with a glare of his own.

"Damn you, Jean. If you choke, I swear to God, I will sit back and do nothing, you hear?" The short man growled, throwing sideways glances at their neighboring dining soldiers, kindly glaring at anyone who glanced over curiously. Jean's spiky head bobbed once more, swallowing down hard and clearing his throat.

"Alright, Connie, take it easy." The bastard had the audacity to chuckle. "So she kissed you, big deal."

Connie's jaw clenched, "Big deal?" he enunciated, eyebrow twitching at faster intervals. Jean didn't seem to notice his friend was about to throw himself at him from across the table, proceeding as he took another piece of meat into his mouth.

"Yeah, I mean, sounds like it was a pretty damn good kiss too. I'll see if I can have Sasha get some pointers from her. You said she licked the roof of your mouth before sucking on your lower lip?"—Connie let out a frustrating hissing noise through his teeth, waving his hand to urge the man to keep his voice down. Jean didn't seem to notice. " _I'm_ getting tingles just thinking about it. Gotta watch out for those short, angry ones."

"Could you get serious for one fucking second?!" Connie shouted before lowering his voice, ignoring the pointed glances and how Jean was smirking like some kind of smug moron. Inhaling through flaring nostrils, Connie forced himself to calm down, putting down the fork he hadn't noticed he grabbed, slowly.

"Look, it's getting worse, okay? I haven't seen her in three days since then and I can't…" he trailed off, wondering if this was really good idea. _Screw it._ Connie thought before feeling his head fall forward, defeated and sighing. "I can't stop thinking about her, Jean. It's like she forced her way into my brain and it can't operate unless she's in it, and sleeping is practically a hell hole alone because it just gets worse every time I close my freaking eyes. I'm sleep deprived, I feel funny and just… the stupid protocol on our matched document says we have to spend an idiotic amount of time together per week… It's frustrating."

To his immense, albeit wary, relief, Jean fell silent. When Connie shot a quick glance at the soldier, he was looking at his meal with a concentrated expression on his face. It was a comfort, knowing at least that once his friend could pull his head out of his ass long enough he'd be able to give some kind of respite. After a short pause, Connie could hear Jean inhale, slow and steady before sighing, "Do you have feelings for Li, Connie?"

"No," Connie denied quickly, looking back up to meet Jean's surprised expression. Yet when he thought the word was honest, the nest of mice in his gut did not seem to find peace. "Maybe…?" no good. "Dammit," he swore, head falling back down to his chest as he ran his hands over his scalp. "I don't know."

Jean sat back, lifting a hand to scratch at his scalp, "Well, it seems like you're quite tangled up, Con-man."

Connie groaned, but couldn't find it in him to snap back a retort. The taller man leaned back on the table, placing his elbows over the wood behind his meal tray to dig his fork back into his meal. With disinterest, Connie did the same but ate without really caring for his food. "My way of looking at it," Jean said after a few moments of thoughtful chewing, "Is you've got two options."

"Oh come on," Connie groaned loudly. Jean waved a hand flippantly in response.

"One, you could keep acting like the chicken shit you're being at the moment—,"

"Chicken shit!?" was the indignant shout. "How the hell am I being a chicken shit?!"

"You're running away from the problem, dude." Jean shot back flatly. "Like I was saying, you can keep running away and deal with this issue on your own. Or you can man the hell up and confront Li about this…this thing."

"Confront me about what thing?"

It was as if someone had tossed the bag of rodents that Connie's stomach had become into a pit of flames. Heat and shock spread like molten rocks through his veins, making him jump in his seat. Both Jean and Connie gave a violent start before turning around, visibly sweating when they saw the nonchalant and uncaring expression on Li's face. The woman was holding on to a tray of food with one arm, placing her other hand to rest at her hip as she looked down her nose at the fidgeting men sitting below her.

"Oh, Li!" Jean exclaimed, grinning nervously before shooting a glance over to Connie. Connie had frozen, staring at her for a long moment before ripping his gaze away and stuffing food in his mouth at velocities that would conclude in serious health repercussions. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"It's the dining hall," She stated. "But if you're that easily impressed, Kirschstein, you should plan your next date with Sasha in the kitchen. The rate she eats bread could make or break you."

"I've lived with her for four years," Jean replied, glaring. "I already know how she eats bread."

"You would." Li agreed, but her lips twitched into something close to a smile and it left both men uncertain how to react. "But back to topic," she said before walking around the table and sliding in her usual spot beside Connie. The short man instantly scooted away. "What is it you need to confront me about?"

Wide amber eyes nearly paled before turning to look at her with an expression of serious disbelief, _is she messing with him or does she not know._ Not for the first time did Connie find himself hating how easily blank she kept her expression, betraying nothing but the curiosity curling behind her green irises.

"N-Nothing." He grumbled, looking away and returning to his meal. The silence that followed was easily one of the most awkward and terrifying instances of his life. Jean cleared his throat and began to clear off his things from the table.

"I'll, uh… I'll leave you two alone, now." He said, chuckling anxiously despite the dead frightened expression on Connie's face. Li blinked up at him, uninterested before digging her knife over a potato, as if oblivious to Connie's frantic shaking of the head toward Jean. "You two have things to talk about."

 _Oh, you son of a BITCH!_ Connie roared in his head, but made no move to follow. In tense silence, the duo watched as Jean ambled off, shoulders shaking no doubt with stifled laughter and Connie let his mind trail to seeing the man strangled on the side of the road.

"Meat's a bit dry…" Li's voice startled him with its softness. Connie swallowed back the bitterness in his throat and took in a slow breath. Slowly, he turned to look at her, but she was not looking at him. Rather, she was busy carving trails through her food, quietly and with that same expression of flatness over her gaze.

"Y-yeah… I guess…" He stammered and mentally kicked himself when she hummed back. Dammit… dammit… why was this so freaking hard?

Two feet of space between them, yet Connie felt as if they were separated by a ravine and yet forced into a small space all at once. It was uncomfortable and even stuffy, but he had no idea how to excuse himself. For reasons unknown, it seemed as if the scratchings and nervous churnings in his stomach had died down into a tight and anticipatory lull, making his thinking seem to move at the rate of dripping sap. Slow, sticky and reminding him too much of the flavor she had curled through his taste buds not so long ago…

"Li… I want to talk to you." He wanted to say. It was, literally, the easiest thing to say. All he had to do was let his tongue feel less like a tree trunk and more like… well… his tongue, and allow the words to just fall out. _You make me feel different. I think we should not be together. I want to stay with you. You confuse the shit out of me. I can't stop thinking about that stupid kiss. Why did you kiss me? Why did you react so strongly? Do you like me, too or…?_

Instead, silence continued to melt time into something pathetic and weird between them. It was practically drowning him and making him wish he was Captain Levi—because, surely, he wouldn't be afraid of talking to a girl. Right?

_I'm not afraid… I'm just…_

What?

Just what…? Worried? Excited? Thrilled? Terrified? Wanting to cease existing?

"We need to talk." Li's voice came again, but it was stronger, more reminiscent to her usual self—what _was_ that anyway?—and enough to make his stomach split into two separate parts and simultaneously crash down and fly up.

"T-talk? Here? Now?" he, not so eloquently, stammered, turning amber eyes back over to the girl sitting at his side. Li shook her head, deep red and burnt orange strands of her hair falling from her shoulder.

"No." Her voice was grave. "In private."

The nest in his stomach twisted and churned then, but there was a strange heaviness building now in his chest. Building and rising until…

Connie belched. Li turned to him lifting a brow.

"Sorry… uh, yeah… uhm. Yeah." He cleared his throat, rapping a fist against his chest to get the after taste of his latest bout of anxiety out of the way. Rolling green eyes, she shoved her tray away before rising, her hand reaching for the fist against his chest. With a firm tug, Li was yanking him to his feet. Connie let out a sharp yelp, stuttering in surprise as he was dragged off. "W-wait, you m-mean, ri—you mean right now? _Now_?"

"Yes, now. Now, shut up." Li snapped over her shoulder. Connie's jaw slapped shut before nodding dumbly, nearly tripping over his feet as she took strong strides out of the dining hall. He couldn't see her face as she tugged him along, but from people's scrambling movements to get out of her way, he figured it may have been a similar expression to the fury she had pressed against his eyes and, subsequently, his mouth. A sudden fright shot through his stomach— _she's not going to kiss me again, is she?_

They made a sudden sharp turn into a small and vacant hallway. She didn't stop until they were well within it and at this point Connie's heart was ramming out a stuttering rhythm in his chest and forcing a tightness in his throat. He wished he could say all he was feeling then, was just a simple terrified anticipation, but he would be lying if he didn't admit that he felt a twinge of excitement force the blood to rush in powerful waves through his body. Without knowing, his body was registering the smooth and warm feel of her hand over his, the way her palm rubbed against his skin and eliciting the softest friction that made him feel strangely lightheaded.

Li gave his hand a violent yank, forcing him to whirl around to face her. In an instant he was beneath the force of her emerald gaze and he nearly withered at its intensity. For a moment, he just stood, back against the wall and swallowing back nervously as she stared him down, not breathing a word. Seconds passed slowly, and try as he wanted, Connie was unable to hold her stare for long, glancing down at the firm pout that was her lips. Abruptly, they moved.

"I…must apologize," She ground out, slow and reluctant. To the soldier part of him, it was enough to stun him thoroughly silent. To the young man part of him, Connie nearly felt as if someone had grabbed what he knew to be true and tipped it on its head and dressed it in a pretty bonnet.

"You… _what_ …?" He wheezed after another uncomfortable stretch of silence.

"I said I apologize," She insisted. From the corner of his eyes, he could see how her hands were balled up into pale fists, trembling. Blinking back up to her face, he could see the subtle hints of embarrassment and even aggravation playing war behind her straight gaze, the lightest sign of a blush over her cheeks. "I was angry. I shouldn't have ever breached your space like that. You just really, _really_ , ticked me off and I wasn't thinking. So. There, Connie Springer."

That was… the worst apology he had ever received. Ever. Shoving surprise to its rear, Connie felt a snort burst from his nose and throat, eyes closing as he tried to register what he heard correctly. Like a rising wave of ire, the past two nights of sleeplessness and frustration shoved their way up his stomach and toward his mouth. "Hold on. _I_ ticked you off?"

Li gave him a short nod, "Yes. You pissed me off. Quite immensely."

"So you're saying that what you did was justified because I supposedly ticked you off?" He scoffed.

"Not supposedly," Li corrected, crossing her arms. "You did. You disrespected me. I overreacted. Are we passed this now? Can we go back to being undoubtedly hateful of each other's presence without the elephant in the room?" With that said she was rolling her eyes and walking away, as if the matter had been settled just because she said so.

Shooting a hand out, Connie caught her around the shoulder before spinning her back around. "No," He stated, mimicking her flatness and similar irritation. "We are not passed this because you feel we are. We are not. Do you realize what you put me through?" He ranted. "What I've had to go through these past few days after you pulled off that little…" his hands spun around in aimless circles, "Stunt?"

Li's eyes widened, leaning away affronted by his attitude. "What I put you through?" She repeated.

"Yes!" He snarled, taking a step closer to get well within her space. Satisfaction spun in his chest when she took a step back, surprised. "What you put me through! I have been unable to sleep these past two nights, Li. All my brain can seem to process is the stupid repetition of that moment when you stuffed your tongue down my throat against my permission!" A flash of a blush burned through her cheeks, no doubt unexpecting the resurrection of the 'little stunt' within her mind.

"I apologized, alright?" She snapped back, baring her teeth even while he towered over her. Shoulders squaring back as she stood to the tallest of her height, her nose just passing his chin as she did so. "Besides, I don't see why it should have been such a big deal!"

"A big deal!?" Connie exclaimed.

"It obviously shouldn't have happened since it was such a horrible kiss anyway!" Her arms were thrown backwards, her back leaning behind her as she let her body emulate the exasperation her voice alone didn't seem to carry enough to her standards.

"Horrible kiss?!" He squawked, feeling more than his pride being questioned, feeling more than just insulted. The past few nights had left him so unbelievably frustrated and this…this…this _woman_ made it seem as if it was just the sort of thing one could throw away—as if she hadn't angrily placed the most shocking, and arguably, best kisses of his life. She said it was horrible? Properly seething, Connie very nearly lunged for her as she finally turned away and began to walk off once more.

"Let's just let this whole thing drop, okay?" Li grunted, hair flaring behind her like the flames he felt burning him in his chest. "I said I'm sorry. I don't owe anything else to you."

Connie could honestly not remember moving. He could not remember breathing, let alone running after her. All he knew was that she downright pissed him off in ways no one had ever had, not even Jean had ever infuriated him to this state. The next thing he knew, Connie's hand was gripped over the crook over her elbow before spinning her around and throwing her against the nearest wall.

She had enough time to gasp before he pressed himself hard against her, and doing the stupidest thing he could have done to Hanna Li Dorinski. One of his arms snaked its way around her waist, slamming her front against his, while the other shot out to grip around her cheek and under her jaw, angling her face up just enough for his mouth to meet hers in a sharp kiss that hurt his teeth for a moment.

She let out a sharp and muffled groan, her hands falling to squeeze over his shoulders as he attacked her mouth in the similar movements that had haunted his lips and left him gasping late at night. Lower lip caught between his teeth, he hissed when he felt her fingernails rake over his scalp before meeting at the juncture of his head and neck. The taste had not changed, it was sharp, it was tart and had a bitter sting that was as repugnant as it was deliciously addicting. She was growling against him, shoving him as he fought to keep her still and firm against the wall.

It was hard, it was violent, but it made Connie feel so strangely liberated it reminded him of the first few times he had used his maneuver gear. Their kiss proceeded in this manner for the next unnoticeable eternity, tugging and fighting, but after his hand had reached up to grasp hard to her hair, her body gave a sudden and strong shiver that suddenly made her slacken against his hold. For a moment, he felt a fear paralyze him completely, worried he may had taken it too far. The fear died to make way for a strange confusion when she let out a soft and breathy moan against him, her movements becoming less aggressive and more sensual.

No longer did her teeth seek to mark his lips violently, but nibbled gently. Her tongue no longer felt as though it was prodding and whipping against his but caressed with an unprecedented smoothness that made his attack fall apart to the sensations and moans she was eliciting.

He hadn't expected it, but the next thing he knew—Connie was kissing Li deeply, unable to stop himself from reciprocating the bizarre slowness she was directing. Breathing hard, he tried to pull away, allowing him only enough time to let out a soft gasp of air before she was wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back in and doing that thing with her tongue against the roof of his mouth that made his knees tremble.

His hold over her waist tightened, his hand pressing against the curve of her hip and allowing his mind to go delightfully blank as she moaned and sighed against him, lips sucking at his lower one before directing their attention to his upper lip. It was mind boggling and if he thought the kiss she had given him days ago was amazing… this one shot that one out of the water. Out of nowhere, one of her legs rose over his, her knee bracing his hips closer and making him rub against her at an angle that made the air tighten over his throat, making him want to taste more than her lips and let his tongue travel down her jaw, to taste her throat…

"…Hanna…Li?"

One minute Li was kissing him senseless and the very next instant she was ripping herself off him and leaving him to fall against the wall and nearly smack himself against the stone. "Wha—?" Connie breathed, blinking lazily up toward the source of the voice, but not before catching Li rubbing at her mouth and straightening her jacket with an almost frightened frenzy.

"R-Riza!" Li coughed, looking up with an expression Connie had never seen before. She looked properly panicked out of her mind, cheeks flushed and lips kiss stung. Maybe it was the effects of the kiss, but her mouth looked so weirdly delectable… but Connie was already forcing his attention toward the entrance of the hallway, his eyes registering the familiar face of the girl who appeared to be Li's sister. She looked positively thunder struck.

"Nothing happened!" Connie blurted out, not knowing what to do with his hands as he tried to feign normalcy. "We were…uh…"

"Talking!" Li filled in, fiddling with the buttons of her jacket, looking like she was about to collapse to her knees any second. "Just talking, Riza. What… what is it?"

Riza's expression jumped back and forth between the two caught young adults, a calculating gleam twinkling in her eye and Connie was eerily reminded of Li at once. _Good Maria, they could be twins._ He thought before moving away from the wall, making it a point to stay a safe difference away from Li. Slowly, Riza lifted a slim finger to point at him, her lips curling into a mortifying and smug leer.

"Wait…" She hummed, grinning wolfishly. "Are you…? Is he…?"

"No one!" Li clicked her tongue curtly. "Let's go." Without bothering to spare him a glance, Li was storming her way out of the hallway, grabbing on to Riza's extended hand and dragging her away.

"Oh my _GOD. HE IS!"_ Riza squealed. Connie felt his stomach drop to his feet.

"Shut up, Riza." Li silenced brutally as their footsteps echoed off. Before he could make his own escape a sudden fast progression of footsteps neared the hallway, making him stand alert and ready for anything. What he didn't expect was for Riza to pop her head around the corner before her eyes were looking him over.

"Uh…" Connie mumbled before she grinned again.

"Oh, he's cute. I dig the buzz cut. Li, why didn't you tell me your match was a total heart throb?" Connie's mouth went dry as his cheeks burned bright.

"RIZA, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!"

The smirk returned with a vengeance before the taller Dorinski sent him a saucy wink. "Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Riza."

"C-Connie… Connie Springer…" He introduced mindlessly, still reeling over the kiss and Riza's unexpected comment.

The auburn haired woman pursed her lips, green eyes squinting before asking, "Isn't that a girl's name?" In a blink, Riza disappeared, her laughter twinkling in the air after her. Connie moved before he could think, running around the corner just in time to see Riza wave to him with a lewd grin while Li yanked at her ponytail. Just like that, they disappeared down another turn and he was left staring after partially crowded hallway.

"Oi, Connie!" Jean's voice hit him from the side, but Connie was still staring after the last he saw of Li and her crazy(er) sister, Riza. "How'd it go, you talk to her yet? Connie? Hey, you in there? Who you waving to? Connie?"

_What the ever loving hell…did just happen…?_

* * *

Porcelain clicked and squealed softly as a teacup was placed back over its matching coaster, the translucent dark liquid heaving back and forth before reaching equilibrium. Silver eyes trailed the edges of the pale cup, noticing with apt attention the way the smooth designs of flowers and leaves done in gentle curls of soft color. A similar sound reached small ears and lips tightened just a fraction as an awkward silence filled the space between Commander and Squad Leader.

"This is very good tea…" Rico voiced softly, letting her fingers follow the smoothness of the cup on her lap.

"I am pleased you enjoy it," her companion replied and after another short few seconds of silence she looked back up. He was watching her with an inscrutible expression that made her feel strangely self conscious, but suddenly, he was smiling lightly at her. Rico could do nothing else but return it.

"It helps to have the Merchant's Guild so at your mercy, doesn't it?" She joked lightly and she felt relieved when he chuckled in response.

"It certainly does," Erwin said, lifting a broad hand to scoop out some more sugar to stir in his cup. "How have you felt these past few days here, Miss Brzenska?"

She grimaced, disliking the sound of the given honorific. "Just… Rico. Rico is fine."

"Very well," the soft sound of metal kissing china reached her ears before he set his spoon back down. "Rico. How have you enjoyed your stay?"

"It's not home, if that's what you're asking."

Blond eyebrows rose in a soft expression of mild surprise and Rico sighed, holding back the urge to wince, and placed her still full cup of tea back on the table between them. "Forgive me." She said. "That was…rude."

"What is home to you then?" Erwin asked then, making her blink in confusion. He lifted his cup to his lips and took a slow draught of his sugary tea, blue eyes never leaving hers as he waited. It was a strange question but it wasn't exactly out of her range of expectancy—it made sense…to ask something like that. The realization that she would be soon marrying this man and soon after giving him children played like a melancholic chord in her chest, sobering what was already sober and making her feel rather useless.

"The Garrison." She replied softly, letting her eyes fall back to the porcelain. "It's the only home I have left."

"You don't have any family?" He questioned, and the soft clatter of teacup on tea coaster caught her attention to see him mimicking her previous action. Rico turned her gaze back into his, searching for a sign of emotion aside from the curious scrutiny he was paying her. She didn't know exactly what it was… but it was as if he was searching for only one answer—as if there was only ever one right answer to this open ended question.

"My squad is my family," Rico declared, unwavering. "Ever since I became Squad Leader…the members of my squad have become more than a unit. They became more than my friends. I am sure you can relate to this sort of feeling."

Erwin let out a thin breath through his nose, as if amused, but his expression was too bitter to be amusement. "If I can, then that would make me a murderer of family ties."

A stone fell deep within her chest and it forced her gaze downward, unsure how to approach the heavy subject. _The Commander is a good man, Rico._ Pixis's words returned to her mind, small but dark smile hiding behind the scruff of his mustache. _He knows what it is like to carry wounds and burdens. Of others, and of himself. It may be much to ask… but I implore you may assist him in carrying these burdens—not as his wife. But as a fellow soldier._

They were all burdened. All of them. They all carried blood on their hands. Rico knew this intimately. She could easily recall the many hours she had spent beneath a boiling water spout, scrubbing at raw skin to get what memory and stain she could off her skin. Yet, despite all the soap and lathers and all the perfumes the female soldiers would occasionally like to buy… she could never get rid of that stench. The stench of hot iron, rust, and macabre.

In the dark of each night, after she returned to bed and laid in silence… she liked to think that if she prayed hard enough, all those names would be able to hear her. All those voices and smiles would be able to understand that she survived and that she was surviving for them. For all of them.

She had failed many soldiers, and it was enough to rip into her dreams and damage hours of rest. Only, here she was, looking at the face of one of the men who had designed orders and commands—knowing full well that many of those tactics would end in bloodshed. _How heavy is your ledger, Erwin? How bloody is your conscience?_

An abrupt knock on the door alerted the two brooding soldiers. "Commander," Keiji's voice was heard through the wood. Rico vaguely wondered how loud he was truly shouting, considering they were not so close to the door in this rather large space.

"Yes, Keiji?" Erwin called, but made no move to rise or lower his own gaze from Rico's face. Frankly, it made her squirm inwardly a little. She hadn't really paid it much attention, but his gaze… it pierced as much as it studied. Not even Commander Pixis' stare demanded such strict attention. Or perhaps, this was merely a result to their inevitable union. Perhaps, she felt hyper aware of such focus because they would ultimately have to engage in intimacy and the thought alone was enough to send her stomach in a fit of spirals. Turning her gaze away once more, Rico preoccupied herself with taking another sip of her cooling tea.

Keiji's voice was heard again, "You have…visitors."

"I am busy," Erwin replied, and Rico fought the urge to stand up and walk away when he mimicked her again. "Tell them to see me later this evening."

The door swung open, drawing their attention to the intrusion and demanding their focus away from one another. Several steps and Keiji looking absolutely torn after, three unfamiliar faces walked in, on their chests the Unicorn of the Military Police was borne proudly and with arrogance.

"Commander Erwin Smith," Spoke the head of the group, a fierce looking woman with hair tied sharply back to the back of her head in a tight bun. Her golden eyes looked more yellow than amber and reminded Rico of the unforgiving stare of a street cat's—calculating and ever on the lookout for prey. She was a full head shorter than her taller companions, men with bored expressions that announced a laziness and disdain that Rico grew all too quickly to loathe. "Good day."

"Good day," He parroted, blue eyes narrowing as he stood to welcome them in, yet his body language spoke of obvious distaste and desire to deal with this later. Rico followed suit, taking step behind him and leaving their tea on the small table. "I was informed your arrival would not be until later this week, for the Poltrabend."

"Your intel was incorrect," the woman replied, as if she were addressing a lowly soldier rather than the Commander of the 13th legion. Already, Rico could feel a strong dislike for her. "I am Major Harke, these are my subordinates, Lieutenants Russo and Leonhardt."

"Leonhardt?" Erwin worded, turning a raised brow towards the blond looking soldier. The man turned his chin upwards, as if challenging. Rico had to hold back from barking at the men's disrespectful attitudes. Not once in their entrance had they offered a salute, as was customary, to the Commander—a feat that would have gotten a cadet flogged for insubordination. _Military Pigs._ Rico thought acidly.

"I am in no ways affiliated with Annie Leonhardt, sir." The man replied, tugging hands in his pants with a half shrug. "So you may rest easy."

"Indeed," Erwin said curtly, his stance straightening as he looked over the other soldiers.

"Commander Smith," Major Harke stated, directing the attention back over to her. "We have come here to stay for the duration of two weeks, starting effective immediately. Our intentions are simply this: To monitor all seeming progressions of all matches given by the state and High Courts, as well as ensure there is no dissension amongst ranks—,"

"I am fully aware of your intentions, Major." Erwin interrupted, blue eyes narrowing. "I am capable of reading the simple instructions given by the Marquis in charge of the jurisdiction."

"I am not questioning your literary capabilities, Commander," the woman replied, blinking a sort of exasperated expression the two other soldiers shared with half grins. Rico's blood boiled, but remained silent, settling in placing her fists to rest behind her back as she directed a flat stare over the military pigs. "I am simply following orders. Something, I am sure, you are certain to understand."

 _The hell is she implying?_ Rico thought, biting down on the inside of her cheek. From the corner of her peripheral vision, Rico caught the slightest twitch in Erwin's hands—no doubt catching the subtle jab beneath the Major's words.

"I understand completely, Major Harke." The broad man said easily, tilting his head slightly to the side. "However, your orders are redundant. I appreciate the concerns you have but I would encourage you now to locate your living quarters for the remainder of your stay."

Harke's yellow eyes flashed, aggravated, "We are grateful for your hospitality, Commander. However, I must insist to proceed with the orders given by _our_ superiors, no disrespect intended."

"You are no longer within the jurisdiction of _your_ superiors, Major." Rico snapped, feeling more than enough done dealing with this woman and her two lackeys. The three policemen turned to her with surprised expressions, as if just barely noticing she was in the room. "If I recall correctly, protocol states that when placed under another commanding officer's jurisdiction, all orders given by said commanding officer must be followed—regardless of previous commands. Am I incorrect, Major?"

"I'm sorry," the woman chuckled and Rico could feel the beginnings of a familiar murderous intent scratch at her fingers. "Who are you?"

At the cheeky question, the silver haired woman bristled. "Squad Leader of the Elite Forces of the Garrison, Rico Brzenska." She stated, allowing her voice to drip with as much condescension as possible.

Major Harke snorted, "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

There was a short moment of silence, before Rico cleared her throat. "Assists: one hundred and sixty three. Kills: one hundred and twelve. That is a grand total of two hundred and seventy five." she cited bitingly, not bothering to curb her disdain from her voice.

The three soldiers exchanged confused glances, Major Harke's cat like yellows narrowing. Rico tilted her chin forward, "Titan kills, Major. Most of them ranging within the ranks of 17-meter class Abberants. I alone was able to take down a 20-meter Abberant during the siege of Trost four years ago. So allow me to redirect this question to you, Major." Rico chuckled derisively, "but who are any of _you_ to show such blatant disrespect to the Commander of the 13th legion of the Survey Corp?"

"Blatant disrespect?" Harke exclaimed, looking outraged while the other two turned irritated glares over to Rico.

"I'm sorry," Rico chuckled again. "Wrong question. Are you aware of the full repercussions of such insubordination to a superior Commander, Major? Believe me, I am more than willing to assist in dishing out the reminder."

Harke let out a sharp scoff, turning her gaze back to Commander Erwin's, "I have had enough talking with this Garrison Dog, Commander. We shall be patrolling your halls and gathering information. Call upon us when we can discuss without such needless barkings."

Rico flared, hands jumping to her sides and seeking out swords that weren't there, more than ready to rip out this woman's throat. "If you want to keep your tongue where it is, _swine whore,_ I suggest you watch your—,"

"Rico." Erwin stated, effectively silencing her with a sideways glance. Rico's mind was racing, thoughts to ignore his command flashed in tantalizing curls as the image of disposing of these arrogant pigs became a desire too real to ignore. Yet, she restrained herself, deciding instead to shoot violent daggers from her eyes at the smug looking woman standing just feet away. _I've killed vermin bigger than you, pig._

"I appreciate your suggestions, Major Harke." Erwin replied, "You are dismissed."

With a series of nods and final provocative glances over to Rico's seething figure, they turned and walked out of the room, Keiji looked just as brutally hateful at them as Rico felt but said no words as he closed the door behind them.

"One word," Rico grunted. "Just one and I would've ripped her apart."

To her surprise, Erwin did not scold or reprimand for speaking out of turn. Instead, he chortled, earning him a bewildered glance from the shorter woman. He turned and walked back to his desk, still chuckling.

"Did I say something funny?" Rico asked, frowning and watching him with narrow eyes, uncertain whether to follow or return to her seat and tea. She settled for standing.

"You reminded me of someone," He replied before pulling his chair back and sitting down, lips curled up in unveiled mirth. "I must ask you to keep from culling our resident swine, if at all possible."

The comment was enough to make a grin of her own to spread over her lips, feeling the atmosphere lighten in a way she had not predicted but did not reject. Rico made her way back to her tea, more to hide her smiles from his scrutiny and to contemplate this latest development. "I will make no such promises." A light peal of laughter escaped past Erwin's lips and Rico found herself enjoying the sound enough to chuckle along with him.

_Perhaps…he's not as severe as I supposed._

* * *

Dark eyes stared down with a soft expression, the gentle light of dawn curling within gray irises and escaping into the depth of a sad upturned curl of lips. Carefully, Mikasa traced soft fingers over the dream cast countenance of her lover, pushing away the black bangs away from his forehead as he slept and snoozed.

She had been watching him sleep for the past hour now. For the fifth night since Erwin and Levi's last reunion, Levi had woken in fierce trembles and violent grips over her skin, grasping over her face and checking her head and chest for wounds that weren't real. In response she would offer silent shushings, breathing slowly as he tried to control the gasps lodging within the tightness of his throat before he calmed. It took nearly forty minutes to calm him, to press certain kisses against his lips and ease herself over him—she didn't know why, but he seemed to find the most comfort when he could feel her entire weight over his torso and hips, letting their legs tangle beneath the sheets as he gripped her tight against him.

"I'm here…I'm alright," She whispered when he had pressed his face against the crook of her shoulder, inhaling deeply despite the shaking of his hands.

"I know," he would reply, before pulling her down for a series of deep kisses and light grinds of hip bones against hip bones.

He would then push her on her back trailing well-worn roads of kisses down her neck to her collarbones, his hands lifting at her night clothes to expose her to him and she would let him. In the laze of the early morning, he would bury himself between her legs, drown within the slow gasps and sighs of her moans and the familiar rhythm that was their own intimate dance. Gentle and soothing, he would take her. Yet, despite all his shifts and grunts of arousal, she could still taste desperation in his tongue, feel the remaining tremors of the nightmares still playing in the back of his closed lids—yanking his eyebrows together even as she raked her nails against his spine.

"Levi…" She would sigh, leading his hands to press against the space beneath her right breast, to allow him to feel the pounding of her heart and to let him feel the way his would match her rhythm. Faster he would move before she was pressing herself fully against him, letting out high pitched cries that signaled the peak of her pleasure and the peak of his.

"Thank you…" Levi would hum against her, pressing open mouth kisses against her throat before collapsing at her side, nuzzling her skin with his nose as she curled around him.

"What's wrong, Levi?" She murmured as his breathing slowed. "Tell me…"

Whether or not he heard her, Mikasa was slowly beginning to find uncertainty. So she would wait until he fell asleep and hope it would be freed from the shackles of the nightmares enslaving him. Softly, she placed kisses against his forehead and temples, curling her fingers under his jaw to kiss his sleeping mouth and hope it would be enough.

She didn't know why she felt so terribly useless. Her heart weighed down with each tight pull of his eyebrows, wishing that each hard line that formed over his face would soon be smoothed away by the feel of her in his arms. It had been enough the first couple of nights, with a kiss his scowl lines would disappear and he would let out a soft sigh, as if relieved, before wrapping her closer.

Now… it didn't seem to be working. It hurt, it made her anxious to see how he had to struggle on his own whenever they fell asleep together. It would only become worse when he would refuse to speak when they both woke.

"Why can't you tell me?" She wanted to ask, but could see how he looked at her after she would say, "I'm not going anywhere, you know that right?" it was meant as a comfort, but a gleam of agony burned bright behind his narrow eyes and he would look away before she could decipher why it caused him so much pain for her to say that. So, she would settle on the only declaration that still seemed to bring him the light and joy that had squeezed her to him, weeks ago under the rain.

"I love you." She murmured to him as he slept, his fingers flickering over her skin as his eyes flashed back and forth under his lids. "I love you."

Half an hour later, he stirred, blinking up blearily into her warm gaze and offer her a half smile and place a palm against her cheek to lift her hair away from her face. "Hey," He would mouth and she would grin in response.

"Hey," she greeted before leaning down and claiming his lips with as much love and adoration as she could give him without alarming him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby," He snorted, lifting himself up to his elbows to meet her nose-to-nose. Mikasa's smile wavered, saying nothing when he leaned in to press his nose against her neck and to fondle her side and flick a thumb over her chest. "You?"

"I slept okay."

He pulled away, lifting a brow, "Just okay?"

"Well you did wake me up for sex," She chuckled, but let the implication of his nightmares make its way through her eyes. He smirked in response, but looked away. That alone made her heart slant downwards, saddened he still refused to talk to her about this. "How about we have a shower?"

Levi flicked steel blue eyes back over hers, before grabbing her wrists and pressing her down on the bed. "I would like a shower," He said huskily. "But I don't think I'm dirty enough for one."

"Oh really?" She retorted, but let him kiss her. "That's a start."

"I'm actually rather hungry at the moment," He grinned against her cheek, dipping to nibble at her earlobe and she let out a sharp squeal when his tongue flicked out to a tickle spot in her neck.

"Levi, don't!" She exclaimed between treacherous giggles.

"I think I will." He said before biting down on the juncture between shoulder and neck, forcing her to moan. "Thank you for the meal," he kissed before working his way down and leaving her a whimpering mess.

One hour later, they were both showered and dressed, her hands working on the cravat against his throat as he watched her with a lazy expression. "You're doing it wrong."

"Shut up," she snapped, ignoring the way his fingers ran up and down her waist, focusing on adjusting the white cloth. With a nod, Mikasa flattened the cloth over his chest before pulling him in for a final kiss. "Just one more week and I'll be your lieutenant." She breathed.

"Hmm," Levi's fingers tightened over her waist before deepening their connection, "Don't get cocky, brat."

Mikasa chuckled before pulling away, warmly saying, "I'll see you later old man."

"Lunch?" He offered as he walked off. Mikasa gave him a nod and he graced her with a small smile. When he turned around, she could feel her own smile tighten, disappointed and disheartened.

 _Why won't you talk to me…?_ She thought as she watched her Captain strut off, shouting a sharp command to a couple of cadets lounging around. They scrambled up to pay him a salute, and she chuckled softly before turning around and making her way down the opposite direction.

The heaviness in her throat had not gone, even after her body still tingled with the euphoria only Levi could give her. Did he not know how much it worried her? To see the building of dark circles under his eyes and the lightest slackening in his stance due to this exhaustion? Even though there was an element of relief after they both collapsed together, gasping, she could see it.

She could plainly see how he ached for the peaceful sleeping they had both enjoyed their first week together. Her footsteps echoed in her ears as she made her way down the halls toward the dining hall, caught in the web of her mind to not realize her name was being called.

"Mikasa… Mikasa!" She finally heard, head perking up to look around for the source when she saw Sasha waving at her from a table, her plate stacked high with breads and sausages while Krista nibbled on a roll.

"Sasha!" Mikasa exclaimed, making her way passed tables and weaving through chattering soldiers. "How did you get so much food?"

The auburn haired woman grinned mischievously, beckoning her close and waiting for the Oriental to take a seat in front of her. "The staff in the kitchen owed me a favor, so I decided to cash it out by getting a large spread for my girls." She motioned and invited her to take some food from her plate.

The scent of cooked meat and freshly baked bread wafted up her nose, making her mouth water. Reaching over, Mikasa snatched up Sasha's fork and stabbed a sausage with an appreciative hum.

"Thanks," Mikasa said with a mouthful of sausage. She took a moment to enjoy the spicy flavor, chewing slowly. "What's the occasion?"

Krista blinked bright blue eyes up at the newly situated girl, beaming, "Tonight, the boys are taking Armin out for his bachelor night. Sasha wanted to do the same, but I have much too much to plan to spend more than a meal time out. So, we're having breakfast together."

"I thought Jean was helping you with organizing," Mikasa mused, grabbing a napkin from under the tray to dab at some grease dripping down her chin.

"He is, but I can't have him do everything," Krista giggled, lifting a hand to pull away the stubborn strand of gold that liked to fall between her eyes. "Besides, I want the boys to enjoy themselves tonight."

"Historiaaa…" Sasha grumbled, "Are you sure you don't want to go out? I know a couple of really well built soldiers who would just _love_ to give you a lap dance." At the thought, Krista's cheeks burned a bright pink, her head shaking furiously. Mikasa sniffed, amused, before taking a piece of warm bread and ripped it in half with her hands.

"Oh no," Krista denied, "I don't think I would like that. I get flustered enough with Armin teasing me in the mornings—no, Sasha, not _that_ kind of teasing, you perv. So I think I'll just stick with arranging the last of the seating chart, thanks."

"But, wait," the raven haired woman interjected, "If that's the case, won't it bother you if Armin gets a lap dance from another woman?"

Krista pursed her lips, frowning, "I guess. I mean, I know its tradition, or whatever. I know he would hate the thought of me letting some guy rub himself all over me."

Sasha clicked her tongue, reaching to nab a sausage up with her fingers, "So, what are you going to insist he doesn't get strippers?"

The petite blonde woman let out a slow sigh, scowling, "I don't know. I talked to Jean earlier about it, and he kept going on and on about how it was a rite of passage for men, how it would prep him up to take his responsibility as a man… or something."

"Of course, Jean would say that." Mikasa deadpanned, rolling her eyes before glancing at Sasha. "You need to keep your boy under wraps."

Sasha blew a raspberry in response, "Jean talks big, but he's harmless. I would know. I'm the one who tops."

"Ew, Sasha!" Krista squealed, face flushing scarlet. "I seriously did not need to know that."

Sasha didn't seem to have heard her friend, turning a naughty gaze over to Mikasa, "On that topic," she muttered under her breath and leaning close over the table. "How are you with the Captain, Mikasa? Any raunchy stuff you want to share?"

"No." Mikasa stated before shoving a roll of bread into the auburn haired woman's mouth. Krista sighed after Sasha let out a muffled shout as she proceeded to eat the roll despite sending Mikasa a nose-wrinkled glare.

"You're not getting married until next year, right?" The blonde asked, grabbing at a slice of butter to smear it on her bitten roll. Mikasa turned to her, nodding slowly. Krista didn't seem particularly confused, but she had once been super sweet and overly generous in the past. When they all found out about Historia Reiss and her background, the young woman had suddenly become more solemn, brooding and even melancholic. She hadn't bothered in keeping up pretenses, deciding in merely taking orders and keeping to herself.

At the time, Mikasa had not really bothered with getting to know her. Krista was her own issue, she had to deal with being used as a pawn for most of her life and it was not until they had lived under the same house that Mikasa had grown to distrust her. Plainly put, she didn't like placing Eren's safety along with the girl's.

But when push came to shove, Krista had made a choice, she embraced her name as Historia Reiss and even accepted much of what their group brought out in her. Mikasa still didn't know what it was, or what Eren had said (as it became known later on that he had shared many conversations with the girl and helped her on that journey) but the change was practically overnight.

No longer was Historia Reiss an empty doll, nor was she, Krista Lenz, an assuming god-like patron of kindness. She became her own person, even going so far in falling in love with Armin and choosing a life as a soldier rather than return to the expectancies of nobility. In the end, Krista had proven her worth, and Mikasa had accepted her efforts and had grown past the distrust.

Were they friends? Mikasa liked to think so, she was marrying her best friend and closest thing to brother she had, aside from Eren. All in all, the girl was alright by her standards. She made Armin happy, that's what counts.

"Yeah," Mikasa said, smiling faintly at the reminder. "Next year."

"How come?" Sasha intervened, mouth still chewing on a piece of bread too big to fit behind her teeth. Mikasa sent the girl a grossed out expression that she returned with a shrug.

"We like the spring," Mikasa said, letting her fingers dig within another fresh roll and enjoying the warmth it seeped into her cold fingers. "We both agreed that if we were going to be married, it would be when the flowers were blooming."

"That's really sweet," Krista cooed, smiling cutely at Mikasa's soft expression. "Armin and I really like the autumn… with all the colors and the beginning of winter."

"I never pegged the Captain to be so… sappy." Sasha replied, snickering behind a palm. Mikasa tossed another piece of bread at the girl.

"He's still the same," the raven haired woman defended, "He's still crude and rough around the edges."

At this, Krista was shaking her head, blonde hair falling past her shoulders to follow the motions, "He's not the same man, Mikasa. You have to admit he's different now."

"Yeah!" Sasha agreed, leaning her elbows on the wood of the table, nudging Mikasa's boot with her own under the table. "He's…softer now. Like you are. The Captain Levi I remember didn't hesitate to rip into Titans, or even people. When people call him the Dragon, it's really true. It was like one bad look and he would breathe fire on you and take apart everything you know."

"But ever since we started living together, he softened up." Krista added. Mikasa pursed her lips, pensive.

"Eren said that it was because he accepted us as his squad. I'm sure he did that same to his previous squad. It probably took him a while to warm up to us."

Krista smiled again before reaching over to place a hand over Mikasa's hand, soft and warm fingers squeezing gently over hers. "I'm more than sure it had more to do with you than us, Mikasa. You were the same. You were so one-track minded and tense, always ready to defend Eren. Captain Levi changed that, I think. I think when you both connected, you were able to find the softness of each other's spirits. You were made for each other. And I think, and Sasha can agree, that you two are truly humanity's strongest."

A surge of warmth spread from Mikasa's chest to the rest of her body, flushing her with contentment and even shy acceptance. Nevertheless, she cleared her throat and pulled her hand away from Krista's smooth grip, "I doubt we were _made_ for each other…" the young woman grumbled, but the thought was kind enough and her previous doubts slowly faded away.

 _They're right._ She thought as they continued into their meal, conversation falling to what the boys had in store for Armin and if the poor guy could take it. Sasha guffawed, Mikasa chuckled and Krista giggled as they imagined the terrible end result of tonight's issue. Soon enough conversation moved to the Poltrabend (it was only two nights away!) and what they had in store. All in all, Mikasa enjoyed these girls' company, enjoyed how close she cared for them and how they cared for her in turn. _They're right._

 _Levi and I overcame a lot together, and even after several months of not talking… we still made it through. We'll be alright._ She thought. _We'll be alright._

Glancing up, Mikasa peered through the high windows above the dining hall, catching a sliver of blue through the heavy overcast of clouds passing through. A small smile lit its way over her lips, before she turned her attention back to the women chattering in front of her.

_I'm sure the worst has passed._

* * *

In the years of her youth, Hanji Zoe had once been a shy and timid little frail child. At the tender age of four, she had been running down a thin street and when she made a turn to reach her home, she had stumbled into a group of older kids, playing with matches and lighting a small kitten's fur on fire. The poor thing yowled and screeched, scratching and squirming while the others laughed and mimicked its agonized cries.

At the time, all Hanji could do was watch. Stunned, horrified and even outraged, she wanted nothing more than to run up to those bastard kids and rip them apart, to save the poor animal and even tend to its wounds. But when they turned and noticed her, Hanji flinched, startled. It had been enough for the small animal to find an escape and with a fierce scratch to one of the boys' hands, it burst off under a house, bleeding and limping.

Angry, the boys turned on her, shouting at her and asking why she had to stick her nose where it didn't belong. In that moment she had been overwhelmed by a strange sensation, one that paralyzed her as much as it coursed through her blood like the very fire they played with. She never once lifted a finger, but she remembered screaming when they proceeded to burn one of her pigtails.

In the end, an adult arrived in time to land some brutal kicks to her abusers and send them scurrying off. Hanji never forgot the smell of burnt hair. She never forgot the instant that they all turned to her. She never forgot the way the little kitten had turned big green eyes in her direction, wide and afraid. But most of all… she never forgot how enraged she felt, and how much she wanted retribution later on in her life.

To say Hanji Zoe had been a violent girl was an understatement. While her hair grew back, she dedicated much of her time in learning how to punch and trying to appease her Uncle's demands in helping with caring for her mother. In her bed, Hanji's mother had only pleaded that she grow up gentle, that she would forget about life beyond the walls and forgive the boys who had harmed her.

Hanji had nodded then, but her heart had never accepted the promise and her mother died peacefully in her sleep. She never once told the dying woman about the instant with the cat, and how watching those flames and watching those eyes had changed her life completely.

Hanji wanted nothing more than to burn those who dared prey on the weak. As she grew, she grew with the intense desire to find those boys who had hurt her. And one day, after Hanji had turned eight, she had found them. It had been the first time she ever punched another human being enough to make them bleed, and while the sight of it shocked her, she could never forget how hot that boy's blood felt against her skin. _It's warm…_ She had thought, gazing at the blood stain after, and she continued to stare at it even while her uncle shouted at her for being reckless and cried when her injuries kept her in bed for three weeks.

That was the moment Hanji had felt herself grow. She grew to hate the people who laughed at those who were dumb.

Her uncle had become worried, even more so after she had started arriving home with less and less injuries and more angry parents marching over to demand for Hanji to be thrown in some place for delinquents. So they moved away, and her uncle decided it would be best to place her somewhere she could learn, instead of fight.

When Hanji turned ten, she had been transferred into her first school and it would take her until she turned thirteen to realize that her uncle had sold much of her mother's things to pay for the tuition. During her stay, she learned much about why humanity dwelled within the walls. When she was old enough to understand what the word 'Titan' truly meant, she felt the same anger of her youth bubble within her soul.

 _They are our predators._ Her teacher had said, gravely. _And we must respect and fear them._

"I don't want to." She had said, balling her hands into fists. "Respect is earned, and if they earned yours by killing others, then they don't deserve mine."

At the age of fourteen, Hanji had left her uncle a note and ran away, expressing her sole intent to join the military. It was there that she experienced pain—real pain—since her days as a kid. She understood honor, loyalty, even fear. Yet, all she allowed herself to feel was anger, anger because she wanted to prove to everyone that the Titans did not deserve their fear.

"What faction are you going to join, Hanji?" One of her fellow trainees had asked her as their date of graduation loomed close.

"The Survey Corp." She answered honestly.

"You mean you want to be like Luis Bodt and see the outside lands?"

"No," she replied, looking into the flames within the fireplace of their cabin. "I just want to kill as many Titans as I can."

On the eve of Hanji's sixteenth birthday, she tasted fear. _True, unadulterated fear._

It was not in the form of a Titan, no. The instant the gates had opened and she spurred her horse's side, Hanji had felt a thrill fill her to the brim, her eyes remained fixed on the horizon ahead instead of the skies above. She had ridden and she had ridden hard, eyes always on the lookout for a bumbling figure that deserved to die.

She could never remember the reason for their expedition, all she knew was that one moment she was riding, the next she was in the sky, hooks digging into the flesh of a bumbling giant and her swords ripping deep within its neck before ripping them out. Blood shot out like a geyser in a hot stream, it slapped against her cheeks and it _burned._

It burned so strong and it felt like it lit her on fire, all she could register was how she could not hold back the delighted laughter that exploded from her lips the instant her prey had fallen. _I am your hunter, you wretched piece of shit._ She had snarled at its steaming corpse.

But her victory had only lasted a single moment, because when she glanced up, her eyes froze on the sight of one of her teammate's crying out, held on both ends by a Titan with a wide grin. Before she could react, the Titan's hands gripped on to the crying man, and snapped his spine as if it were no easier than snapping a twig into two.

But in that instant, Hanji could feel the horror escalate, because just before she witnessed her comrade's death—through the yards of space between them—she met the man's wide eyed stare, tears leaking from his eyes as he bore the final moments of fear for his life into her eyes. _No._

She had thought she had become strong enough, she was convinced she was invincible. Yet even when her hands were trained in the use of swords, even when she had been able to kill one of her enemies… She had been unable to stop the needless death of an innocent by the hands of the evil. For all her training and weaponry… Hanji Zoe had confronted the true nature of her humanity.

She had stared into the face of her own insignificance… and she had been unable to look it in the eye and not shatter completely.

In the end, Hanji had been unable to do more aside from following the order to retreat, the smiling Titan serving as nothing more than a grim reminder of her ultimate power.

She was nothing.

For all her hatred, and rage… for all her violence and bloodlust, and for all the titans she felled since then, Hanji Zoe could never shake off the feeling of incomplete desolation.

And it had burned her.

" _I don't know what this is supposed to mean…" blue eyes peered up at her with a soft smile. "But if there is anyone out there that can figure this out… it's you, Cadet Zoe."_

The window to the study creaked as it swung open, slow and whining. The wind was howling, but it was hitting the castle toward the direction her window faced… letting in only cold drafts occasionally. The chill was a sharp contrast to the heat striking her face, sliding cold fingers up her spine while she let her face scald.

_June 26_ _th_ _851_

_Chikachironi and Albert were unfortunately killed. Incisions to the back of their necks in an attempt to test full brain regeneration theory were cause of dea—_

The words fell in charred strokes of flame and ink, paper crinkling in violent snaps and pops of the fire within the thin metal trash bin on the ground. She could only watch the flames swallow and chew, hissing and grunting with satisfaction as she dumped yet another journal within the greedy tongues of orange, red, and blue.

" _Your perspective is a good thing, Hanji." He had grinned at her. "It is necessary even after all this bloodshed."_

Another breeze gasped its way through the window, pulling at the thin curtains at the edge of its reach and giving the fire she had started more room to breathe and cough out soot and gray reject. Leaning her head forward, Hanji exhaled a deep sigh and pretended that the heat didn't hurt the insides of her nostrils and didn't stain the cheap bags within her chest called lungs.

All that mattered was watching the fire eat.

"Hungry, aren't you?" She chuckled mirthlessly. She had once asked that same exact question to one of the titans she had captured, she had been happy then. She had Erwin at her side then. Her hand reached aimlessly for her desk, fingers grabbing at yet another journal to dump its contents within the building fire. Somewhere in the front of her mind, she registered the sound of paper ripping, of the door sliding open… of footsteps rushing and hands pulling her away from the fire.

"Major Hanji!" She heard, and blinked blankly when she was met with Moblit's frightened gaze. "The hell are you thinking?!" He shouted before tossing her out of her chair toward the cot Eren had once occupied. In a blink, the officer was gone and her eyes followed him to see him stomp his boot through the bin's open mouth as he tugged his jacket off. He let out a few shouts she didn't quite register and moments later, two other soldiers were running in, one of them holding a large pitcher of water and dumping it over the flames and extinguishing their hunger.

 _You're hungry… but I'm not your prey. You wretch._ Hanji thought. _You couldn't even fight back as they extinguished you. All you could do was scream and hiss. Pathetic._

"…Quickly, try to save as much as you can. You! Fetch me some of the laminates from the infirmary, and bring some of the disinfectant. Some of it is charred but I can probably save the information within…"

"Oh, let it go, Moblit." Hanji groaned loudly, gaining the attention of the men in front of her. Moblit's expression looked absolutely pained. Hanji shrugged. "The titan's are gone. Humanity is saved. Eren probably can't transform at all and nothing we'll get will be more than what we already know. Just let it fucking burn, who the hell cares."

Moblit looked as though she had kicked him, wounded, betrayed… it reminded her far too much of that cat… of that comrade… here was another she had allowed to be hurt and still she could do nothing. "Major…"

"I said, let it fucking BURN, MOBLIT!" She exploded, ripping herself off the cot to storm toward the rest of the documents, her arms swiping over the top of the desk with a violent crash. "There aren't any more of them out there! There's no reason to keep studying if there's nothing left to study! We're all okay now! We don't need this shit anymore!"

Hands gripped at her arms, pulling her away and forcing her against the nearest wall, yet despite all her shouts and cries, Hanji could do nothing except break.

"Why can't we just let it burn?" She wheezed, sobbing even while she felt Moblit's body press her firmly against him.

"Leave us be," Moblit ground out, grave.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… I've got her."

A tense silence followed as Hanji wheezed and whined out sharp sobs against the lapels of her junior officer and after her knees gave a violent wobble, she allowed Moblit to escort her to the cot. For what felt like a short eternity, Hanji cried herself hoarse and still. It took several long moments of silence between her and the man who had followed her to hell and back before she gave him a short nod.

"I'm alright now, Moblit…" She sighed, rubbing at her eyes beneath her glasses, now fogged up and stained with the salt of her tears.

"You sure, Major?" He asked and she looked over his lap before placing a firm grasp against his forearm, gripping it warmly before letting go.

"Even after all this," She hummed, smiling thinly, "You're still at my side."

Moblit's other hand reached over to grasp the grip she had over his forearm, "I owe you my life, Major. That's a debt I could never repay."

Hanji chuckled, empty and weak, but made no move to shove him away, accepting his silent support even as he silently offered it. Slowly, she retracted her hand and he pulled away his, and they sat side-by-side in silence for a little while longer.

"We received a letter," Moblit said, after a few minutes, reaching into his jacket before pulling out a small envelope. Hanji smiled again, pleased to know Moblit was still the same man who got straight to business even after she would break down. "It's from one of the outside expeditions."

Outside expeditions? Hanji scowled, removing her glasses and wiping them clean, "Already?" She murmured. "I didn't think we'd get any intel for another two months."

Moblit let out a strained sigh, "That's the thing, Major…" he trailed off before handing her the correspondence. Once she had it, he motioned to the top left corner with a finger. "It's dated from three months ago."

Hanji's scowl turned grim as she turned it over, catching the seal of the Survey Corp and recognizing the stationary. "Why have you not given it to the Commander?" if Moblit caught the unusual use of Erwin's title he did not mention, choosing instead to move on.

"He was… preoccupied. I'm not sure if you knew but… three days ago the Military Police showed up."

"Right on schedule," she grumbled, jaw grinding as she tugged a finger under the edge of the letter before ripping the digit through the weak material. "Have they started harassing matchees already, or what?"

Moblit nodded, "Yes, and they been directing more of their efforts on the Commander himself. Arrogant as they are, they hardly let Keiji do his job in assisting Commander Erwin. I could hardly find time to take this to him. I figured you're the next best person."

Hanji let out a small nod and murmur, throwing the officer a quick smirk before pulling out the document within the envelope. "Let's see what our boys have found, yeah?" She announced, in an attempt to sound like her old self. The attempt while failing, was still appreciated by Moblit and at this moment… it seemed to be the only thing that counted.

As expected, Moblit kept his distance, waiting as he watched her eyes run past sentence and phrase, curling her eyebrows as she brought the letter closer. "Major…?" He asked and could feel a familiar dread build when her face paled.

In a swift movement and a sharp howl of the wind, Hanji slammed herself to her feet, pressing the paper close to her nose as she read and re-read the paper. Moblit gave a start, watching with surprise as she suddenly turned toward her desk and search frantically through what was left of her journals.

"Moblit!" She shouted and the man let out a yelp before rushing after her. "Where are Eren's results of the past experiment?!"

"The wha—?"

"His results! Where are the documents? I need Eren's information, NOW!"

"What is it?!" Moblit cried, alarmed and searching despite worrying over Hanji's sudden desire for the information. "What's wrong?"

"There is one more test we have to do," Hanji said, grabbing a journal and letting its pages flip rapidly as she thumbed through each article. "One more test—AHA!" She exploded, hands moving at the pages and pressing them firmly against the covers. Moblit stared, wide eyed and anticipating as she frowned once more before facing him with an all new determined expression.

"Get Eren." She commanded, eyes flashing seriously beneath the gleam of her glasses. "And pack a bag, Moblit. We're leaving to the Field Outpost in three days."

The brown haired officer gawked, surprised, "The Field Outpost, sir?"

Hanji turned back toward the papers in her hands, her eyes burning holes through the letter from the latest expedition, "I have a theory, Moblit, and I'm afraid it isn't a good one."

* * *

The sound of china shattering was followed by a bright cheer from the crowd wrapped in a circle. People applauded and laughed, clapping hands and shoulders as music exploded from the back of the dining hall. In the circle's center stood Armin and Krista, hand in hand and reaching down to pick up their first piece of broken porcelain.

"Count them!" Someone shouted and Krista let out a light laugh before Armin placed the shattered piece within a large burlap sack. The blond Lance Corporal sifted through the broken pieces before coming back up with a flushed grin, beaming as if he had been kissed for the first time.

"Fifteen!" He exclaimed and another shout rose from the crowd, people cheered and whooped when Armin placed the last piece of the shattered plate within the sack and place a happy kiss against Krista's grinning lips.

"Fifteen children, atta boy, Arlert!" Another soldier shouted and the laughter rose again, even more so when Krista shook her head no.

"Years of good marriage!" A woman soldier shouted in return, and Krista smiled gratefully at the alternative.

"Better break more plates, then, if she plans on being stingy with kids!" The men in the room shared a laugh, while all the women rolled their eyes. In the midst of all the chortles and good air, Armin turned a warm gaze to his bride-to-be.

"All I want is you at my side," He said, sweetly. "Kids or no, I want all your years and I'll give you all of mine."

The young blonde woman nodded, blue eyes crinkling with pure, unadulterated joy. "It's a deal, Arlert." She said and let out a squeal of happiness when he swooped down to sweep her off her feet, placing a passionate kiss to her lips.

The Poltrabend was in full swing. Days of planning and hours of pouring over details had left many exhausted and tense with anticipation for the incoming wedding, and with the arrival of the military police—the grand party could not have approached them at a better time. With warm wine, a fairly good band, and all manner of friends and good company around, the tensions tearing the castle apart were finally let loose through a positive outlet. Already, the couple could see, many of the guests were drinking their troubles away, letting go and swaying to the music around them.

A long line soon appeared behind the adoring couple and as they moved away, the sound of more plates shattering filled what space the air could provide. With each loud shatter, another peal of cheering would rise. Singing and dancing spread and when Armin and Krista looked up, they were pleased to see some of their friends already dancing in a spritely and whooping group.

"Armin!" Sasha exclaimed, waving her arm over as she was spun out of the hold of a soldier. "Come in and dance!"

The blond man let out a bright laugh when she was spun away by Jean's swooping grasp, the two spun in unison with the rest of the circle. "What do you say," Armin nudged, cheeks glowing with contentment as he gazed down at Krista. "You wanna dance?"

In response, his future wife shook her head, "My legs aren't what they were after I broke them. I don't think I can…"

"It's alright," He agreed gently. "We can dance to something slower after." Her hand squeezed his, grateful and warm.

It didn't take long before they found the rest of their squad, Eren was downing a large glass of wine while rolling his eyes to something Mikasa was saying. At her side, sat Captain Levi, looking at the spectacle with an exasperated look to his, otherwise, flat expression. Beside Eren, sat Connie—the poor bastard was still covering his face with humiliation.

"Armin!" Eren shouted, breaking through his sister's rant (God knows what she was mad about this time) and waving his best friend over jovially. At the mention of the groom's name, Mikasa perked up, turning away to face the incoming couple and giving them both a small smile. Levi, in turn, gave them both a usual nod and lifted a glass of white wine toward them. Connie, only looked up, alarmed before ducking his head away, pouting. "It's about damn time you finish thanking guests or whatever."

"Eren," Krista sighed, placing her hands on her hips, peeved. "Are you drunk already?"

The tan young man waved her off, before taking another deep swig. "I am merely enjoying the spread the occasion. Nothing wrong with that."

Armin shook his head, grinning before breaking away from his betrothed's side to yank the cup from the titan shifter's hand. "Go enjoy some food, before you drink any more, idiot." The blond man ordered, and pointed a finger toward the large table where all the meat and food was placed over. "Last thing I want is to deal with your ass dead-beat and hung over, especially after the event of two night's ago."

"For the last _time_ ," Eren groaned, rising to his feet and lifting his arms up in a frustrated wave. "I didn't _know_ she wasn't really a stripper! That was all Jean's fault!"

"Walk it off, Eren." Armin sighed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him in the direction of the food. "And when you're done eating, you better give Historia a proper apology."

"Oh, shut up," Krista rolled her eyes. "Don't act as though you weren't hoping for strippers."

"I wasn't!" the man whined, but his expression was far too innocent for anyone to believe him. "I didn't expect it at all, promise!" Krista pointed a strict finger in the direction Eren had gone in, giving her fiancé a pointed look. With a long-suffering sigh, Armin nodded before walking away, grumbling, "Alright, alright, alright… Hey, Connie."

The short buzz cut jerked upright, stammering, "Oh-oh, H-hey, Arm! Nice…nice party…" he finished lamely before letting his face fall back against the wooden table, groaning miserably.

"Lighten up, Springer," Levi spoke up, placing his glass of wine back on the table after giving it a short taste. "You're dragging the joy out of the party."

"That reminds me," Krista hummed, placing a slender digit over her lip as she looked over the space and through the crowd. "Where is Li? I haven't seen her all night." At the sound of the woman's name Connie let out a low wail, groaning before tearing himself off his seat and dragging his feet down toward the food spread.

"What's gotten into him?" the Captain grunted, turning his arm to catch Mikasa's hand into his own. Krista smiled when the raven haired woman gave a small start in surprise, but made no move to pull away and settled her shoulder to press against his with a light smile of her own.

"Are you two enjoying the party?" Krista asked, beaming.

"It's nice, Historia." Mikasa said, nodding. "You and Armin have done a great job."

"I could do without the ear-shattering music, though," Levi responded, jerking a chin in the direction of the band. On cue, the crowd let out a wild whoop in beat with the current song playing, making the women laugh and Levi's expression to sour with light irritation. "Case and point." He grunted before taking his glass of wine and taking a deep swig, only to pull away with a disgusted look on his face.

"Sorry," the blonde woman giggled, "I can't change that. Why don't you try to join the dancing, Captain? I'm sure Mikasa would enjoy dancing a _Bandertanz_ with you."

"I don't dance." He placed his drink back on the table and settled on turning his attention back on the dancing ahead of him. The young woman to his right sighed before shaking her head.

"Don't mind him," She stated, nudging her lover with an elbow. "He's exactly the bitter old man we know and love him to be."

"Keep talking like that and I'll have to drag you off, cheeky brat." Levi shot back, but there was a twinge of a smirk on his lips and Mikasa gave his hand a firm squeeze.

Krista chuckled at their not so subtle exchange, "Well, try to stay for as long as you can. I'll ask the band to see if they can play something softer for our Captain." The jab was appreciated by Mikasa, earning the blonde bride-to-be a snort of laughter that made Levi roll his eyes.

A loud gale pressed against the windows, suddenly. The glass and window panes let out violent shudders that made several people exclaim and before long the music fell. Somewhere in the room, a window slammed open, letting in the chill and powerful wind in through the hot space of the crowded dining hall. It tore through clothes and torchlight, shoving past party members and hitting Krista square against her chest.

Hair whipping this way and that, the young woman let out a tight cry when—in the darkness—she tripped over something on the ground but let out a sharp grunt when strong arms caught her before she fell.

"Close the window!" Someone shouted.

"It's cold!"

"What happened to the lights?!"

"Ah, my drink!"

Were among the many cries echoing through the panicked hall, people moved this way and that until finally the wind died down enough for someone to slam the window shut. The sound of something shattering broke through the tumult and chaos and everything went deadly quiet. Fires were slowly relit over the torches of the room and objects and even a couple of tables were overturned, but no one dare speak above a murmur.

Blinking back a dazed expression, the young blonde woman looked up from her position and felt her cheeks color when she met the flat stare of her superior, Captain Levi. "C-Captain!"

"Are you alright, Reiss?" He asked, helping her up and straightening her to her feet. The young woman nodded, smiling gratefully at the slightly taller man. He gave her a short nod before peering over her head, one of his eyebrows arching curiously. At his side, Mikasa stood to look over her comrade and fellow soldier.

"You're not hurt, are you?" the taller woman asked, looking Krista over for any bruising or injuries. Krista nodded, a bit exasperated.

"I'm fine," she insisted before hearing Armin's voice through the low murmurs.

"Historia!" He appeared pushing through the arms of soldiers and followed by Eren, the titan's shifter's green eyes appearing sharper and sober despite his earlier drinking. "What happened, did one of the windows break?"

She shook her head, frowning and catching how Eren and Levi's expressions were directed in the opposite direction. "I'm not sure… why?"

"We heard something shatter," Eren replied, arms tense at his sides. "It happened after the lights went out." Soon after he spoke, Sasha appeared from behind a few bewildered soldiers, her face appeared anxious and even a bit grim.

"Armin, Historia…" Sasha said shakily, not bothering to grace anyone else with a glance or a nod. "You need to come see this."

Dread and a dark curiosity spread between the group before they began to move forward, pushing through the crowd and heading in the direction where everyone's attention was placed to. It took a short moment of weaving and dodging before they spotted Jean, his face was scowling when he met their gazes and was pushing through the crowd with them.

"Alright, everyone back up!" He shouted. Soldiers complied easily, moving away as Levi's squad arrived to the scene, but what they saw made several stomachs drop with dread. Krista let out a soft gasp, her hand lifting to her mouth, trembling when her eyes beheld the mess on the ground.

It was a long and oval mirror that had been settled by one of the windows, once wreathed with pretty bows and small flowers, yet now shattered all over the ground. Levi stepped forwards, squatting down to pick up a shard of the broken glass with an indecipherable expression. Glancing up, he met the gazes of every uneasy officer in the room before standing back up.

"Everyone here, calm your shit." He projected, letting a hand over his hip. "So a little bit of glass shattered, so what."

"But, Captain…" another soldier spoke up, before wincing beneath Levi's sharp glance. "It's bad luck, even worse when at a poltrabend. For every shard that has already been broken in china, the number of shards in glass multiply each year in bad."

"What matters is that no one got hurt," Levi barked, tossing the shard back on the ground where it clattered. "Now, stop being a group of frightened little shits, man the hell up and clean up this fucking mess. We've never had time in being superstitious and we sure as hell aren't about to start now. In the meanwhile, someone tell the band to play something for the bride and groom. Get some lively hood back in this graveyard of a party you people are turning it into."

Sure enough, hands began to pick up at the shards and not long after the band began to play a jovial tune that had everyone slowly return to the evening's festivities. In the midst, Levi moved passed people to approach the still stunned looking couple that were his subordinated, fixing them a firm stare and tilting his chin.

"Reiss, I suggest you take this next song with Arlert." Krista blinked up at him, looking strangely pale and worried.

"But…sir… the omen."

Levi let out a thin snort. "There is no omen," silence filled the space of the suddenly solemn group. Rolling his eyes, the short man snapped his fingers in front of them. "Quit it the hell out. It was a simple accident, there is no omen, no dark looming evil waiting to tear you down. Focus on your own and what you can manage. Don't make me start fucking dancing just to get you morons happy."

At this, Armin let out a soft chuckle before taking Krista's hand into his own. The others exchanged various glances of amusement and relief, before nodding. "Come on, Historia," Armin urged gently. "Let's share a dance and forget about this little incident."

Nodding faintly, the young woman allowed her future husband to lead her away before shooting her leader a small smile of appreciation. "Thank you, Captain."

Levi gave them both a curt nod before being tugged into the fray by a grinning Mikasa. "That was kind of you to do." She said into his ear, curling her arms around his neck.

"People shit themselves for no reason," He retorted. His lover sighed and pulled away before placing a soft kiss against his lips. When they parted, he shot a dark glance in the direction of the nearest duo of policemen. "Shame the mirror didn't land on them. I'm sure no one would've cared if that had happened."

"In an ideal world…" Mikasa trailed off, chuckling before leading Levi into one of the dances, much to her amusement and his chagrin.

And so the night continued in the progression of drinking and merrymaking, and hours later into the night, Armin and Krista were picking up the pieces of all the broken porcelain and plates into their burlap sack. With a shared ease, they cleaned up after all had gone to their rooms and in the dark of the night, they made their way back to their room—silently hoping that in the end their Captain was right.


	7. The Ides of Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue shriller than all the music, Cry "Caesar!" Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear."
> 
> Julius Caesar, Act I, scene II - William Shakespeare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's tracks are: Chaos is a Ladder by Ramin Djawadi, Snow Tales#1 by Clem Leek, Raein and Fok by Olafur Arnolds, A Bitter Truth by Lorne Balfe, Dinner and The Ship of Dreams by Max Richter, Decision by Ramin Djawadi

"HEAVE!"

Sharp wind shoved against uniforms and men alike, whipping against shoving bodies and making sights ahead hard to see. Hands gripped hard against wood as the men shoved and pushed with sharp cries and grunts of effort.

"Lieutenant!" Someone shouted from behind the damaged wooden structure. Lieutenant Keiji, gritted his teeth as he turned in the direction of the dark haired cadet shouting his name. The dirty blonde man looked absolutely miserably as he shoved along with his comrades, "Why can't we just take the thing apart before we take it inside?!"

"Idiot!" Another soldier with wildly wind thrashed brown hair exclaimed before Keiji could lay the insult himself. "With this wind there's no way we could take it apart, unless you want us to loose vital parts! Use your head, moron!"

"We push it inside!" Keiji shouted after, feeling the structure wobble and groan as the wind burst through and against it. Slowly, they progressed as the twenty or so soldiers heaved and shoved at the topped gazebo, many already lifting it to avoid any more damage to its paint and appearance. Keiji let out a sharp hiss, bitting down on his lip when he felt the wood send sharp splinters against his aching palms. With a fierce cry, the soldiers nearly stumbled when a particular strong gale struck them from the right, the Lieutenant shouting, "All together and on my command—HEAVE!"

In the days that followed the end of the Poltrabend, the anticipation had soured in small increments. Those who had been there when the mirror had shattered had found themselves stealing concerned and worried glances at, not just the blonde couple, but at the sky itself. It didn't help that the weather was casting dark vibes of eerie foreshadowing. Stormy overcasts and strong winds that tore and yanked in erratic waves approached much of the attitudes and left many feeling more or less uneasy.

Nevertheless, there were others who had only waved off such superstitious concerns with an uncaring shrug.

"You prissies need to take a moment to relax," Keiji had announced, that following Monday to a group of worried looking officers as they placed their maneuver gear in their place, just two days after the Poltrabend had concluded in it's somewhat dark tone. "So a mirror fell from the wall, big deal."

"But…Keiji…" One of the soldiers interjected, frowning. The Lieutenant made a big show of rolling his eyes.

"Give me a break," He grunted, "If you ninnies think this weather is odd, I can assure you that last year the exact same overcast hit during the beginning of fall. I can also assure you that it'll happen next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. No mirror shattering will affect the way the weather works, now get back to work."

It should've had put death to the subject. Certainly enough, most soldiers who had previous exchanged such sullen glances appeared more at ease at Keiji's words, recalling the same logic the Dragon Captain had announced the very night the mishap occurred. It certainly should have… until a short cadet burst in, black hair that had once been styled in bowl cut was skewed and whipped in awkward angles, grey eyes wide as he gasped in air.

"Alex?" One of the soldiers asked, the brunet scowling at his comrades appearance. "What's up man, you look like someone left you dangling on your gear outside." The rest of them men sans Keiji exchanged chuckles.

"Not now, Fitz." Alex said, waving his hand at the taller man before turning toward Keiji, looking rather winded. "Lieutenant, the gazebo…for the wedding…"

Keiji scowled as the young man fought to catch his breath. When no more answers came from the short man, the veteran turned to the boy, frowning fully, "What about it, cadet?"

"The wind…" Alex heaved, "One of the older trees by the woods snapped. It's been damaged by some flying branches, the Commander sent me to get you so we could try to salvage what we can!" Not even a moment before the cadet could finish and conversation leaped back into the dark topic of the curse and bad luck.

"No bad luck?" One of them snorted. "What'd'you call this then?"

"No doubt about it," another agreed, nodding. "It's the curse."

"Bless my boots by Maria's grace," Keiji groaned before turning a step to face the rest of the soldiers. Hands at his sides he fixed all of them a fierce stare, "Enough! I'll have no more talk of curses or witchcraft from you lot! Acting like a bunch of frightened old milk maids, honestly. Cadet Fitzwilliams, I want you to follow the other cadet with a group of men and head over to that gazebo immediately. Get that Gazebo inside. Senior Cadet Riech, I want you to get another group and start clearing the dining hall. Lucky for us the Gazebo is right by the large doors that lead to the outside."

With commands and uneasy expressions exchanged, the men filed out in organized lines, jogging out and moving with practiced efficiency. It took them something like half an hour to get things prepared and assigning who was doing what. It had been difficult—getting the damn branches off the wooden structure without the use of 3DMG, but Keiji was not risking lives or gas when the wind could pluck someone straight from the ground and off God-knows-where when one was merely standing against it.

By the time they managed to move it close enough to the castle, several more men that had been inside the large dining hall push the doors open and rushed out to help their comrades. Sure enough, the added strength was enough to hoist the wedding gazebo up into the air and, while it made shoving easier, it also made it harder due to the erratic shoves of wind.

Out of nowhere someone in the front let out an exclamation as they pushed the large thing, "Ditch ahead! Careful!" but the cry was swallowed up by the wind and before Keiji could register it, he felt his foot fall within a sudden hole in the ground. He collapsed, losing hold on his part of the structure and crying out when he felt his ankle give a nasty crack that was audible even through the fierce gusts.

"Lieutenant!" One of the cadets shouted. It was Alex, and the boy was pulling away from the group to reach him but Keiji stopped him with a shout.

"Get the damn thing inside!" the dark haired man shouted, grimacing as he crawled to the side to get out of the way, cradling his wounded ankle when he stopped. "Do it now!" He shouted again when the soldiers hesitated. Sure enough they did as they were told and Keiji watched as they were able to squeeze it through the door and safe within the confines of the Dining hall. As they worked, the soldier took a moment to give his leg a quick and thorough check. Already, his ankle was swelling against the tight material of his leather boot, feeling too hot despite the icy presses of the wind around them.

He attempted to move his foot and was able to wiggle his toes within his shoe and lift the limb gently despite the loud protest of the injured joint. It hurt like hell but it filled him with relief when he realized it was not a break.

After a short moment of waiting for the throbbing and ache in his leg to ebb, Keiji glanced up, taking a moment to behold the sight of the dark clouds moving above them rapidly at the wind's insistence. A sudden blip of green amongst the gloom and curl of the sky and against the castle top, Keiji blinked in surprise, squinting and lifting a hand to shield his eyes against the wind.

It was no blip of green…

"What the hell…?" He muttered to himself, trying to make out the sight on the spire of the castle above the dining hall.

"Lieutenant Keiji!" he heard and Keiji tore his gaze away to see a small group of men rush to his aid. "Are you alright?"

"Fine!" the dark haired man responded, rubbing the area over his eyes as the pain in his ankle seemed to have migrated to his head. "It's just a sprain, I'll be fine." A few of the men knelt and helped him up, moving quickly through the space as they attempted to move against the gales and shoves of air.

When Keiji glanced back up in the direction of the strange sight, he scowled. It had gone.

 _I could've sworn…that someone was up there._ He thought to himself before they finally retreated within the dining hall and out of the wind's angry howls. Shaking his head, the tall man quickly tossed the idea out of his head—deciding that it must have been a trick cast over his eyes from the pain, exhaustion and the unforgiving tosses of nature.

* * *

It was mid-morning when Eren heard the door of Hanji's study being slammed open. The sound was enough to rip him straight from his bed, gasping and reaching for his shirt in a fit of half-asleep panic. Blinking through the cobwebs of sleep and trying to make sense as to why the same scientist he was borrowing a bed from was scrambling around and muttering to herself in excited spews of incoherent phrases.

"H-Hanji…" He mumbled, struggling to face her clearly whilst stifling a yawn and untangling his legs from his sheets. "What the hell…?"

"Rise and shine, Eren," Hanji exclaimed from behind the foot of his bed, reappearing to toss a discarded pillow over to his head. He ducked, squinting with bewilderment and turned to voice his question again, but was interrupted when his pants were thrown at his face. Tugging the coarse fabric off his nose, Eren vaguely realized the woman was chatting away, speaking at a million miles a minute and not sparing him a glance when he frowned.

"…And so, we're going to the Field Outpost. Make sure you've got everything you need for the week because we won't be back until Saturday."

"And…" Eren spoke through another jaw cracking yawn, stumbling off his bed when his foot got caught in a sheet. Straightening, he rubbed at the back of his neck, running fingers through the bed mat that was his long hair, as he watched Hanji move over to her desk and shove journals and papers into a thin suitcase she had yanked from under his bed. "Why can't we leave later…? It's Monday morning, Hanji. I spent nearly all day yesterday cleaning the courtyard. I'm exhausted."

"You can sleep when we get there, Eren," Hanji shot over her shoulder, sweeping an arm through her desk and dumping the contents messily into case before snapping it shut. "But we have to leave now. I don't want Military Police jackassery when there's theories that need testing."

Eren let out a thin snort through his nose that sounded and awful lot like a groan, not liking the reminder of the castle's latest visitors.

The past weekend should have been a festive affair. It was customary for the days that followed the Poltrabend for everyone to bestow gifts (usually of the embarrassing category) to the future Mr. and Mrs. Armin Arlert. But tensions have hit new peaks when the MP's made it a clear point to stick their obnoxious noses in the business of the wedding and the relationships still newly formed by the Mandate. Already several fights had been broken up between Survey Corp soldiers and the Policemen, and it did not good to see so many people forced under their supervision.

"It's bad enough we have to deal with the mandate forcing us to take to marriage with strangers," Dieter had exclaimed in the middle of dinner, that past Saturday night. "But dealing with the pigs breathing down our necks? This is bullshit!"

Several cries of agreement had exploded not long after the angry soldier's exclamation. "Does the government not trust its own soldiers to follow mandates to grant us some peace?!" another soldier had cried, making many more stand on their feet as they shouted their indignity. Things only got worse when the MP's attempted their idea of crowd control.

"Are you questioning the commands of the monarchy, Survey Corp pigeon?!"

Emphasis on 'attempted'.

"Maybe I am, Military Swine! You pigs are so fattened up you wouldn't be able to withstand a second outside the walls, and yet here you are treating the actual soldiers as if you could do better than we can!" Dieter had growled, ignoring the hands pressed on his shoulders from his other comrades.

Eren could only feel the rage bubble in his chest when that same Military Policeman scoffed, turning his nose up at the men simmering and just barely holding back from lunging at their oppressors. "Hear that boys?" The policeman snickered, jerking his chin to his other colleagues. "This little birdy wants to have a go at us."

"Watch it, pig!" Another soldier snarled, lifting raised fists in a fit of aggravation. A loud wave of livid growls and violence rose from the epicenter of the conflict, spreading thick fingers of bloodlust through the chest of every soldier in the room. The air had tightened like a string that was strung too taut, irritation and feelings of injustice crackled through the air, enunciating like the string's whines of stress and discord.

Glancing at his left, Eren noticed the rapt and sharp attention rendering his friends silent. Where smiles and teasing had wrinkled Armin and Krista's eyes, there was now a simple and blistering appraisal piercing through their blue gazes toward the direction of the discussion. Krista's knife was gripped in her hand, steady and prepared for the worst. Armin had placed a hand over her arm but the way his eyes flashed when the Military Policemen let out snide chortles, Eren realized the Lance Corporal's hold was not a reprimanding " _don't_ ", rather it was a silent " _not yet."_

Similarly, Jean and Sasha were watching with familiar rage, although, Sasha was keeping a firm grasp on her boyfriend's shoulder, softly stroking in soothing patterns to keep him in check. Connie kept his eyes firmly on his plate, fists clenching just below his food while Li flicked her eyes from the discussion toward Eren—not worried, but anxious, as if curious to see how he would react to the obvious attack to their comrades.

Eren slowly shook his head, keeping his hands out of sight more as a safety precaution than anything else. He didn't know whether or not he could transform… but this was certainly not the time to check.

"You pieces of Survey Crap need to get your heads out of your merchant pampered asses and start seeing the bigger picture," the same soldier drawled, crossing his arms and puffing his chest out arrogantly. "This is for the sake of humanity, not for your own personal problems. Got that, chump? We're here to make sure you people don't step out of line, and we're not afraid to exercise our own military discretion."

There was a surge of movement that was felt by every soldier in that room, tugging at everyone and making them lean toward the center and Eren could clearly see Dieter making a lunge for the man sneering down at him. For a hot moment, Eren desperately wished to see the dirty blond man land a punch against the Military Policeman's jaw, not realizing his hand was also grabbing to the knife on his plate when he saw the same murderous intent burn through Dieter's opponent's eyes.

"Enough," the command was low and monotonous, but it had rung through the space with the resonance of someone beating a great drum. The tension shifted, and through the space between people, Eren clearly saw the sudden appearance of his Captain, arms crossed and stance lax despite the dangerous gleam in his eye.

At his side stood Mikasa, eyes hooded with dark disposition and lips covered by the familiar drag of a crimson scarf. Levi's narrow eyes seemed to glow a vibrant steel beneath torchlight, masking his face with an expression of such violent boredom it made them all take a step back. The Dragon lifted his head and appraised the men around him, as if considering their value as his next prey. Eren felt his knife-laden hand slacken with surprise and even some sick satisfaction—it was the same look Levi had given him once upon a time in the Military Court. He had almost shit himself then, and given the added terror of Mikasa at his superior's side—Eren was almost certain that their combined forces would be enough to send a violent loss of bowel control from the Military Police.

"Go back to your posts, pigs." Levi announced, blinking lazily at them while Mikasa gave them all a piercing glare. "I'm about to enjoy a meal with my future wife and I will not have your _sitzpinklering_ ruin a perfectly good evening."

The man had the hilarious misfortune to bark out a short laugh, "And who are you to tell me what to do, short route?"

From his distance, Eren was able to see Mikasa's arms flex and body shift into a stance that reminded him of a coiling panther, her eyes widening with the familiar focus he had seen when she was more than ready to rip her enemies to shred. Levi rose a brow and Eren nearly jumped from his seat to get a better look—and he had a feeling nearly everyone wanted to do the same.

Before anyone could see the Pigs get roasted by the Dragon, one of the men behind the obnoxious moron placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back with an expression of registered fright. "Hold on, man. Let's just lay off…"

"Why?" The obnoxious one snorted. Eren shook his head. "All this runt needs is the taste of my boot—"

"Oh?" Levi voiced in the familiar icy tone that sent shivers through everyone's spines, his eyes darkening with dark intent. The reasonable fellow gripped his comrade's shoulder tighter, paling.

"I don't think you get it, man," The reasonably one hissed. "Seriously. This is _the_ Captain Levi. The Dragon of the Survey Corp and Humanity's Strongest and at his side…? That's Mikasa Ackerman, the Woman worth One Hundred Soldiers. As much as I would like to see them kick your ass into the next decade, we should just back off for now."

"Dragon, am I?" Levi spoke, earning him a few flinches from the policemen in front of him (and from everyone else who knew what this discovery has revealed). The following sight was enough to send frigid fear and apprehension in everyone's chests. A wide smirk slowly pulled over the corners of the Captain's lips—the equivalent of a Dragon rearing on its full height and letting out a pleased growl—before he tilted his chin up, gazing at the men through half-lidded eyes. "I won't bother mentioning, then, how a pig can have no quarrel with a dragon."

"What'd you say?" Obnoxious snapped, only to be pulled back by his pals.

"Quiet," Levi ordered, narrowing his gaze before blinking his attention toward everyone else. "Everyone here, sit the hell down and finish your meals. We'll not be having any fights here tonight. If I see any more squabbling, I won't hesitate to snuff it _out_. Back to your posts, pigs. We'll be sure to call you if we find a nice filthy mud hole for you to roll around in."

Snickers erupting through the dining hall, the Military Policemen backed off. Glaring hatefully at the leering gazes around them, they retreated to their spots around the room. Dieter and his group exchanged victorious glances before being turned to by the Captain, "Picking fights when your ribs are still healing, Dieter?"

"N-no—I mean," said man sputtered, blushing embarrassedly. Levi gave him a long pointed look.

"Do as you're told and we will have no issues. For now, just put up with their presence and try not to bloody your fists unnecessarily. Am I being perfectly clear?"

"Y-yes, sir…" the blond soldier nodded, looking thoroughly reprimanded.

The entire encounter, while amusing and successful in stopping a riot that would've gotten out of hand, ended up causing more tensions between soldiers and policemen. Since then, people were better behaved (especially whenever Levi and/or Mikasa were around) but glances exchanged with thick with poison and thinly veiled loathing. Whenever the policemen were given the chance to exercise what power they had, it was with great and sick enjoyment—but this was only true to the higher ups.

Some of the newer recruits—and it was somewhat surprising that Eren could tell so easily—weren't so bad, and even expressed some disappointment when their superiors abused their power. It was a constant struggle, Eren realized, that was spread not just to them exactly. Even MP's were human… even they looked haunted by the laws they had to follow.

_We all share this burden… but even after the Titans are gone… we're still completely divided._

On the other hand… Levi seemed to have grabbed on to his nickname with an unexpected vigor and seemed to have grown fiercer when dealing out demands and chores (much to everyone's chagrin—and that only seemed to direct more irritated glares at the MP's—and even Mikasa appeared to look mildly exasperated to how he took to the name).

Shoving his legs through the sleeves of his pants, Eren rubbed his eyes and pushed himself off his cot while Hanji disappeared under his bed again. She appeared shortly after, yanking a large and empty trunk and dropped it on the messy mattress. After a moment of watching her, the young titan-shifter seemed to realize something she had mentioned earlier, pushing the last of his sleep-addled brain into a more alert state.

"Wait—we're leaving now? And for a whole week?"

Hanji didn't seem to have heard him save the mindless hand wave she threw at him while she settled on stuffing his belongings into the trunk.

"Hanji!" Eren exclaimed, feeling more anxious than he had before. The bespectacled woman whirled around, looking frustrated and glancing over her desk with searching fingers.

"Yes, Eren! We're leaving for the week, now finish packing. I have to get a document signed and the second I do, I would like to head straight to the wagon and leave."

"But, Hanji, I can't!" Eren protested, reaching over to pull his shirt over his head and nearly tripping over the sheets that fell on the ground. "I'm Armin's best man. I can't miss the wedding!"

"Oh, relax!" Hanji sighed loudly, her eyes brightening when she appeared to have found the paper she had been searching for. "We'll be back in time for the wedding, and even have enough time to spare to get you all dolled up. Don't make me repeat myself, you hear? I'll see you in twenty minutes, downstairs. Moblit should be getting the horses and rest of my squad ready with the equipment, so head to the side entrance."

Not entirely settled, Eren watched the woman run out the door, paper in hand and with a determined look on her face. Sighing, he turned back to the trunk where his things were dumped in with unceremonious decorum.

"She didn't even fold them…" He grumbled, and with a final heaving breath settled on fixing his things for the unexpected departure.

* * *

How was it…that the sight of a stupid door could make one feel like caving into tears and panic? Hanji knew. Because it's not the door. It's not the wood, or the hinges, it's not its size or berth…it was precisely what it kept hidden—what it refused to reveal.

On the way to Erwin's office, Hanji had kept her mind firmly away from her previous encounter with the Aryan Commander. Focusing on the document in her hand and the letters in her pocket, she rehearsed and went over every word she would relay to the man, deciding how to explain her situation, get the permission, and leave without unnecessary confrontations.

She didn't think he would.

Then again… he probably might.

Stifling a shuddering breath, Hanji gave Keiji a short nod as she approached the office, carefully ignoring the stationed MP's and their curious leers. Keiji stood and followed her with a slight limp to the door, thankfully keeping his gaze anywhere else but on her and without a word of greeting, he lifted a hand and knocked on Erwin's door.

"Commander, Major Hanji is here to speak with you." Keiji announced.

"…Let her in." The sound of his voice sent a tumultuous jolt through her center, making a strange stutter form within her stomach and chest. Keiji opened the door and Hanji firmly steeled herself, setting her jaw and squaring her shoulders.

Through the space in between, their eyes met. Blue on brown and bereft of all affection that had once been shared without a care. Hanji stepped in, boots striking the floor in easy steps and she saw him straighten in his chair. With a few glances to the side, she was relieved to note that the room was vacant save him. _Less ears to listen in on._

"Close the door, Keiji," Erwin ordered, eyes blinking and betraying no emotion. "Let no one disturb us."

The door swung close, playing a small breeze against the back of her neck and Hanji fought off the urge to shiver. Already, the slow seeping fingers of autumn were pressing through the cracks and thin spaces of their castle. It was an undertone, a press of ice beneath the cool of their feet, the warmth of their chests. She didn't know whether it helped or whether it made her feel worse, but Hanji did not let this deter her from the greater picture at hand.

Wordlessly, she marched forward, reminding herself to loosen her hold on the documents in her hands. All too soon, she was standing before his desk, keeping her gaze on the papers and evaluations and orders from the higher ups on his desk, rather than the searching gleam in his eye, the flash of pain and necessity for forgiveness.

"I have a permission document I would like you to sign," Hanji said, clearing her throat after her throat squeezed the words out in a hoarse scratch. Leaning over she pressed the papers on his desk and retracted her hand quickly—not wanting the risk of him reaching for her fingers, not wanting to be reminded of the warmth only he could provide.

Erwin said nothing as he looked over the papers, broad fingers lifting the documents up and closer for his eyes to scan over. Hanji forced herself silent, damning the urge to fidget and settled on lacing her fingers behind her back in an 'at ease' stance.

"Request for Travel to the Field Outpost," He read aloud. "New information has come to light in which a final experiment is felt to be needed concerning the abilities of the Corps' very own soldier, Eren Jaeger…" Blue eyes blinked the fullness of their azure, reminding her of ice and frigid winter skies, and lifted to meet hers—professional, business-like, and holding not even a single hint of love or devotion.

"What information is this?" He asked. Hanji nodded and pulled the letters from within her breast pocket before settling them in his extending hand.

"This information arrived last week," the red-haired woman explained, "from one of the outside expeditions."

A twitch and a startled flash passed through his eyes before his hands were pulling away paper and pulling out the letter, the symbol of the Corp followed by the number of the expedition was enough to prove this was no folly, this was no fake.

Another silence reigned strong between them, air pushed and pulled through lungs in almost inaudible bursts—as if their bodies could do nothing more than to succumb to this new gravity.

"This cannot be," Erwin shook his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "This letter has been dated to three months ago. Each expedition has been reported to turn in new data by this month."

Hanji swallowed slowly, "Erwin… look at the back."

The paper let out a soft crinkle as he turned it over, and his eyes caught the last script behind it. Blue eyes hardening, he pressed the document back on his desk and slowly pressed his fingers to curl by his lips.

"Did you know who the head of this expedition was?" Hanji inquired.

"Yes," Erwin sighed. "I had personally handpicked the men to go on this mission."

Brown eyes crinkled with loss and she lowered her chin, "These are hard news, I understand, but we must consider the implications."

A deep scowl marred the corners of his lips as a deep and troubled sigh pushed from his lips, leaning back, Erwin rubbed at his eyes. "How have we not come to know this before? Why did it take this long?"

"There is no way of knowing, Erwin. But I fear that this could mean the danger to all other expeditions. It's a miracle we got this intel in the first place." She moved, crossing her arms to rest over her chest, eyebrows furrowing. "This attack on our expedition is unlike previous attacks."

"Are you implying not all Titans have been exterminated?" The question was met with a purse of her lips.

"I'm not sure," she said honestly, "Like I said, this attack is unlike the ones we've had before. For one, the soldier who wrote this said this was done in the cover of night. We know Titans had been unable and inactive at night, due to their biology and use of sunlight. However, the rate the deaths were done…the sound of rumblings… there is not enough data and I'm afraid that if this information can be trusted then all the other expeditions are in danger—if they aren't already."

The sound of his chair scraping against the ground alerted her. Erwin stood and made his way to look out his window, looking over the soldiers marching to and from destinations with purpose. It was under the light of early morning that Hanji could openly witness the way his shoulders seem to slump with added weight, the way the rays of the sun bounced off his hair and curling a golden halo over his head. "If that is the case," he said, "Then this visit by our Military Police is not as innocent as it appears."

Hanji scowled, mulling his words over before her eyes widened, "Wait… you don't mean that this attack has been commanded by the very monarchy itself, do you?"

"Like you said," Erwin muttered again, sending a narrow glance to the door of the office. "We do not have enough data to confirm. Take Eren, conduct your experiments. If he is unable to transform, then we'll have our answer then."

"That's assuming his powers are dependent on Titan existence," she interjected, "consider it done. I'll send a message back later this week. Hopefully by the time we return we'll have something more concrete."

With a nod, Erwin turned back to face her. Hanji pressed her fist back to her chest and gave him a firm salute, pointedly looking away when his eyes crinkled painfully. "I take my leave now."

"Wait…" He called, taking a few steps around his desk to approach her, his eyes honing down over hers as he neared. "When will you return?"

"We'll be back in time for the wedding," Hanji announced, already feeling the anxiety of wanting to leave quickly spur a tingling in her legs. "It was Eren's only condition to his willingness."

The blond man lowered his chin once in a slow nod, as if thinking what else to say. Hanji felt her heart begin to speed up, making the blood rush in uncomfortable speeds through her chest and drain the heat from her fingers. He was too close… he was much too close…

From the edge of her peripheral vision, Hanji saw him move, extending his hand toward hers and gently curl a few fingers around her palm—warmth spun and swirled under her skin from where he touched her, causing the air to hitch in her throat and her body to unconsciously lean closer. Their fingers pressed closer, less timid and with the need to feel again.

"Ride safely," His voice came out in a soft murmur, and her eyes were trapped within the raging blue that was his essence. "Hanji…" he breathed, making her chest clench and flutter like a bird struggling from the hold of its cage—wanting desperately to burst through and fly. The butterfly touch of his fingers grazed under her jaw, tilting it up and she could feel his breath on her lips. Warm, inviting, needing.

_Don't. This man hurt you. He lied to you._

Their lips brushed, feeling but not pressing and his nose found its spot by hers, breathing in and exhaling a measure of peace that she felt complete her.

_He lied. He used you. He was selfish._

She leaned up, her eyes sliding close as she took in the way his lips melted against her lower one. Before she could fully register, her hands were lifting to press strong against the back of his neck and pulling him closer to her mouth.

_He lied to you._

Strong hands gripped to her waist and she let out a soft moan through her mouth as he angled his chin to fully capture her tongue with his.

_He does not belong to you. He's been matched. He will never be yours._

The sound of their lips parting and pressing sang tragic ballads in her ears, making her want to make him hers. Hanji idly wondered if, just if, everything was different, if this kiss between them would be within a church, with flowers wreathed in her hair and twined in his pocket.

A knock sounded through the room—like the sound of battle drums and incoming death. It was enough to rip the drunken high from behind her eyes, shoving sobriety through her teeth and reminding her that his kisses could not be hers and it made her feel so bitter. Shoving herself away, Hanji let out shuddered cry that came out small and tiny through her lips, "No…!"

"Hanji, wait, I…" He frantically muttered, reaching back for her but she was already pushing him away, turning around to avoid seeing that treacherous look of desire and pain in his eye.

"I don't want to hear it," She ground out through clenched teeth.

The knock sounded again, "Commander Erwin!" but it was as if they were pulled away, far away from the office and the poundings of wood and shouts for Erwin's attention. When she turned back to face him, he looked so empty, so desperate and wounded it only served as further acid to her already bleeding heart.

Gasping, she squared her shoulders again and swallowed back the last sweetness of his kiss to the black hole in her gut. "Don't ever touch me again, Erwin." Turning away, Hanji began to march off, holding back the wave of agony that came with ripping herself from him.

"Hanji, please, don't—" He exclaimed, forgetting himself as he rushed and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her close just as the door slammed open.

Startled, the two of them sprang apart as far as they could without arousing suspicion, eyes jumping from each other to the newest addition to the tension in the room. Butter yellow eyes blinked in surprise at the two of them, large and strange over the severe looking face of the Military Policewoman standing through the threshold. Behind her stood Keiji, looking terribly anxious as he looked from the woman to the two former lovers in the room, blinking apologetically to his superior.

"What's going on here?" the woman narrowed her eyes, shattering the silence and making a strange dread fill the inside of Hanji's chest.

"Major Harke," Erwin greeted, voice hardened and exposing an obvious distaste for the policewoman. "I do not recall giving you permission to barge into my office while in the middle of a discussion with my subordinate."

Harke raised a thin brow, the skin of her forehead wrinkling before becoming taut again when she fixed them a suspicious glare. Hanji vaguely wondered how much tighter the bun on the woman's head had to pull at her scalp so severely.

"I have a matter of urgency to address with you, Commander," Major Harke quipped, crossing her arms as she threw Hanji a couple of calculating glances. A sudden lift in the corner of her lips made her look lethal, absolutely villainous and it made the scientist wish she had some kind of sharp object in her hands. "Unless, of course, you would like some more privacy."

"That would be unnecessary," Hanji intervened, hardening her voice. "Since our discussion has been concluded. Commander," the auburn haired woman turned and lifted a fist to her chest in a final salute before turning on her heel and marching her way out. Harke's catlike gaze followed her, drilling holes into the back of her skull with something like dark glee.

The door slammed shut the moment Hanji stepped out, and the sound echoed along with the memory of Erwin's abrupt kiss despite how quickly she moved and how much she attempted to return to normal. It didn't seem to stop echoing until long after she had mounted her horse and, ignoring Eren's curious glances and Moblit's concerned stare, the squad rode out of the castle.

* * *

"Major Hanji Zoë…" Harke's voice grated into his ears as he moved back around his desk to sit within his chair. When he met the woman's gaze, she looked like she had stumbled into a secret she was not supposed to be privy to—and it seemed to fill her with some kind of sick satisfaction. In all honesty, it made the distaste he harbored for the woman strengthen. "She's barren, correct?"

"That does not concern you, Major," Erwin grunted, subtly pushing a few papers over the letter Hanji had left him. "What is it that is so urgent you had to barge into my office?"

Footsteps alerted him to her incoming approach, only instead of standing before his desk as was proper and done by all men and women of lower rank, she moved to a nearby chair. Blue eyes turned icy when he saw her pull at the chair and let the legs scrape against the wood of his floor before situating herself ahead of him.

"My men have made several discoveries, Commander," She began, taking a seat despite the lack of invitation. "Several discoveries that are honestly lifting a lot of concern with my superiors."

"Humor me." He drawled, not bothering to dabble in niceties with a woman who deserved none. The Major fixed him an amused leer before lifting a hand to pluck at invisible lint on her jacket.

"We've made several assessments in the past few days we have been here. Are you aware, for instance, how more than sixty percent of your men are still unmatched?"

"The deadline they gave us was the first week of winter," Erwin replied, "I will not push my men to do something they are still against."

"Wrong!" She snapped, straightening in her seat to turn a sharp glare into his eyes, "That is exactly what you _should_ be doing, Commander."

"Careful, Major." He growled, "I have been tolerant of many of your attitudes in the past, but remember I have lines I let no one cross. You are still several ranks and pay grades beneath the right to speak to me that way."

Major Harke waved a flippant hand over her lapels, "I do not speak for myself, Commander. I am simply relaying the information I received from my superior. The Courtsmen are not happy with the current numbers. Deadlines are not extensions of time—rather, they are given to instill the knowledge of punishment if they are not met."

Erwin pressed a tense hand against his desk, stifling the urge to find reason to throttle the woman sitting ahead of him. "If you want an answer to their message, tell the men of the Court that if they want results—I will ensure them. However, I will not risk the loyalty of my men to satisfy numbers. That is all."

Sparks flew from Azure orbs to burn into the smug butter yellow of Major Harke's. The woman waited a moment, watching him with an inexpressible emotion before rising from her seat, "I hope you're right, and not just for the sake of your men."

Nodding, she whirled around, her footsteps crashing against the wood as she click-clacked toward the door, "Enjoy the rest of your day, Commander." She shot over her shoulder, "However, do not forget that the Military Police has been charged with ensuring such results are given—it would be such a shame if I were to send a report that demonstrated you are less than capable of committing such a promise."

"I assure you," Erwin hissed, "I am."

"We'll see about that," She said with a final smile that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "Won't we."

A sharp wind rose outside the windows, rattling the glass against the window panes before it died back down, casting him in yet another silence that hung heavier in the air. Erwin did not usually dabble in absolutes. Claiming they were lackluster and permitted no opportunity for expansion in intellect and cause—but he could easily say that he hated that woman. He was no fool. He caught the implication she had left behind.

It had been just as he had predicted.

They suspected him. No doubt they were probably ensuring that the letters were real, and going over the evidence that had declared him an innocent man. Even now, he didn't doubt that they would be approaching Commander Pixis, to review past alibis and ensure their stories were concrete and steel. Even now, Erwin was not worried about that aspect of their situation. Pixis had secured him foolproof support in the final days of the trials. He doubted there had been anything they had missed when building the evidence against Nile Dawke.

Glancing back over his desk, he let out a slow breath before reaching toward the drawer that hid a simple golden envelope.

" _The Commander instructed me to deliver this," Rico had said the moment Keiji had shut the door, casting the matched couple in their first privacy. Pulling the document from her jacket, she placed it within his reaching grasp. "He specifically expressed that you do not open it until… the time was right."_

Looking at the packet, Erwin let his fingers work over the thin string holding it shut, feeling its roughness through his fingers. Was the time right?

Erwin knew that was not the case. He knew exactly what Pixis meant with his message, knew that with the opening of this information that their plan would commence, and while Erwin desperately wanted to initiate this plan—he knew there were still many cards that needed gathering before they put their efforts into play.

In this point of the game, they were not fully prepared. The visit to Nile Dawke's cell was a step, a simple assessment of the situation in the capitol.

" _The nobility suspect nothing,_ " He had written to Pixis in careful encryption upon his return. _"Nile is still considered a lunatic among the allies of the crown."_

" _Appearances should never be trusted,"_ Pixis had returned. _"I suspect a move on their part. Be wary, Commander. Winter is almost upon us. I hope you are prepared for it."_

With each press of wind against his windows, the reminder was further strengthened in his mind. Winter was certainly almost upon them.

" _I am prepared for it."_

" _I do not doubt your mind. But is your heart ready?"_

Fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose, squeezing pressure points in an attempt to quell the incoming aches that rose from his latest encounter. He could still feel the press of Hanji's lips upon his own, his mind spinning with the force his heart had overwhelmed it with—it was unintended. He didn't mean to steal a kiss from her lips. Erwin knew that he had to keep his distance, had to stay firmly put and away from Hanji because of this ordeal.

But seeing her, so close. Hearing her speak, even the very soft fragrance of her skin and the feel of her flesh against his fingers… He hadn't realized exactly what it meant for her, but to him—it was nothing short of liberation when their lips met again after such a time being pulled away. Nearly three whole weeks without her at his side, waking to emptiness and the cold of his room had left his chest feeling decayed and hollow.

Erwin had allowed his senses, his desire and need for her forgiveness and her presence that he had acted without control and judging by Major Harke's words… he was certain that he had exposed a weakness he didn't have the luxury of sporting.

And on top of all this… The men he had sent out to claim land and explore outside the walls were in danger. Whether by an outside force or by their own government, he was still uncertain. But if his own suspicions were correct then this would mean that their enemies were moving ahead of schedule.

Grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil, Erwin set to work, scribbling furiously. Reading over his script, he quickly folded the letter before hiding it in his jacket pocket before rising from his desk and walking towards the door.

"Keiji," Erwin ordered as he stepped out. The officer glanced up from his desk by the edge of the hall. "I'm taking a short walk, if anyone must come see me tell them I will return in an hour."

"Yes, sir."

One thing was certain, he needed fresh air. He needed to clear his mind away from Hanji, clear his mind from the threats looming over their heads and reinstating his power back over his side of the chessboard. He couldn't think if his lips were still tingling, still stained with the taste of her and the way she had gazed at him through the haze of love and lust.

For a while, Erwin let his feet carry him through the halls he had considered a home in his younger years. His eyes drank in the sights of his men completing drills and taking time to write to their families. The sounds of life within the castle were a welcome ruckus, helping him remember that these men had placed their allegiance to him because he had been willing to make the ultimate call.

He had lead them to hell and back, and while many died—those who survived were true and excellent soldiers. Men and women who demonstrated a rare character he could only find within the curious, the angry, and the defiant. He watched as many placed their fists against their chests when he passed, greeting him with a warmth he could feel lighten the load that had anchored his heart to his feet.

For several minutes he had spoken to his men, asked how their day had been and saw with clarity the way the mandate _still_ weighed on them. It wasn't surprising. Time may bring consolation, but a few months weren't enough to soften the blow of liberty lost. Nevertheless, what he saw in their eyes was not dejection or acceptance—many still looked into his eyes with the same flaming devotion that he had received when he had called upon them to join the Survey Corp.

Those flames were still going and going strong.

The smell of flowers wafted to his nose as the Commander took a step down a corner, vaguely realizing he was close to the inside gardens. Following the scents and smells, it didn't take him long before he was looking inside the abundance of flora and exotic plant life. He recalled the moment he had agreed and accepted many of these blooms to cradle the space of this large room. He remembered when he had ordered to cave the roof and install glass windows to let in the natural light of day.

" _Flowers are necessary, Lieutenant."_ He had told Keiji when the officer looked at the many arrangements with a dubious look. _"Each color and scent are special to our men and women. Necessary in aiding the recovery of war. Beauty, I have found, is a useful weapon against sadness._ "

Even two years later… Erwin was pleased to see that he had been proven correct in this aspect. Already he could feel the therapeutic aromas pull him in, beckoning him to lay down his burdens and to rest, but the weight against his jacket sobered him from taking any further steps in—that is, until a flash of silver against color caught his eye.

Curious, the broad man stepped in, stretching his head to peer over a large pot of Calla Lilies before letting out a soft gasp.

Sitting on a bench and drenched in sunlight was the short frame of the silver haired Garrison Squad Leader, leaning against a spruce sapling (that would soon be needing replanting in a more spacious area) and writing over the closed cover of a book on several pieces of paper. Some of the papers were bent over the volume, exposing curling swoops of script and words he could not make from this distance. Rico paused as she wrote, before lifting a knuckle and nudging it against the leg of her glasses, pushing the spectacles higher over the curve of her thin nose.

 _What luck…_ He thought before moving closer, hoping his footsteps would alert her of his presence. They didn't. Instead, she continued to write, seemingly oblivious to his presence and as he neared, he saw how her lips would open and close, as if muttering to herself quietly.

Erwin cleared his throat softly, hoping it would do the trick. Still, Rico didn't hear or acknowledge him and when he debated sitting down next to her or leaving she spoke abruptly, "Sit, and give me a little moment. I'll get to you."

Surprised, the broad man did not object before obeying, more out of shock than knowing. Silently, he waited, letting his eyes take in the sight of the halo of white and silver over her head, the way her eyes focused on the words she was scribbling with intense focus. It was almost mesmerizing…

Her eyes flashed up to his, eyebrows curling upward in anticipation when he let out a short grunt through his lips. Clearing his throat again, Erwin gave her a short nod, "Hello."

"Hello," she repeated, before going back to her writing. For a moment, Erwin thought that was the extent of their conversation as they drifted into a strange silence. Leaning his elbows on his knees he looked away, leaving her to her work as he gazed over the many types of flowers and blooms, registering their perfume with a soft wrinkle of his nose.

Several minutes of silence passed between them and Erwin let his eyes close, allowing himself to disconnect from the rest of the world, if only for a short while. Gratefully, he mulled over the way Rico sat at his side, at ease and without the same edge that they had experienced during their first few meetings.

It was a slow process between them, but little by little, during their talks and their conversations, Erwin had found an unlikely camaraderie in her. While words exchanged were short and far in between, the silences that they shared were not all that bad. This being one of them. Awkward they may have been, but as he got to know her, he realized she was not at all like he had feared she would be.

She had even surprised him, reminding him an awful lot of Levi when the Military Police first showed up. Rico had bared her teeth and spoken with a fierce zeal that he couldn't help but stand back and watch. It only occurred to him that things would've gotten out of hand if he didn't stop her while she was ahead that he had called her name and stopped her from lunging at the Military Policewoman's throat.

In an ideal world, Erwin would have let her.

But then again… in an ideal world, Hanji would be the one sitting at his side for imminent marriage. Regardless of his growing esteem for Rico.

There were many things Erwin had disagreed with their government over the years, and while this mandate was harsh and even cruel, from a logical standpoint it made perfect sense. Even if they were to demolish the current government, would they be able to remove the necessary evil that kept Humanity from being unleashed to chaos?

"You're awfully quiet," Rico's soft voice broke through the spiraling thoughts in his head, forcing his eyes open to look at her. She had straightened in her chair, her writing and book placed to the side as she beheld the sight around them.

"It's been a…difficult day." He admitted.

"Already?" She mused, "It's barely noon…"

A soft chuckle erupted from his throat, humorless, "It is rare for me to have good days."

Another slow silence slinked right in, but it was considerably more comfortable than the last. A cool breeze blew from one of the open windows above, bringing relief of the growing heat of the room.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Rico invited and he turned blue eyes over to her profile, she appeared as she usually did, but he could tell how her fingers fidgeted that she was uncertain in asking. Her lips hid behind her lips to expose a firm line. Erwin noted that she was probably asking him to speak, more out of courtesy than actual curiosity. It had been stated in their document that they needed to learn to confide in each other, to speak as openly about their current situations in order to establish more connections. Even so, Erwin appreciated her offer.

"One of my squads… from the expeditions we have commanded outside the walls," He began after ensuring they were out of earshot from the soldiers wandering outside. "I received information that many of them have gone missing or died."

Rico stiffened visibly, fingers stopping in their gentle rapping and holding awfully still. She spoke softly, "I'm sorry. That must be quite difficult."

He nodded, letting his eyes fall to follow the lines of the cobblestone path build into the ground. "It is. Many of those men were good men, strong men and women who I had fought with during the war. Even so, I cannot expose this failure to the Court until the Military Police have left." At this point, the words were falling faster than he had hoped to stop them. "On top of this, much of the soldiers here are being constantly under threat the more time they spend in filling in their Survey Documents. I cannot hope to tell them to push them when they've already been pushed enough."

"You don't want to risk losing their loyalty." Rico summarized and the relief that filled him when he felt she understood almost rendered him mute.

"Precisely. Like I said… it's been a difficult day."

Silence found them once more upon his final revelation. Several minutes passed and Erwin thought that Rico would say nothing and while much of her silence was appreciated… he found himself wishing for Hanji to be with him, found himself aching for how she had always found the right words to ease him.

"Strength cannot be found in books," Rico said. Erwin frowned as he pulled his gaze from the cobblestone to look at her. Her eyes were on the top of a vine that clung to the walls in the direction of the sky windows. "Nor can it be found anywhere else. People can't give you strength, otherwise that strength will leave you when they die. Books cannot give you strength, because you'll forget it when the words are burned and you have nothing. If you're looking for strength, Erwin, look inside. We are all born here with just enough to outlive pages and even others. But strength, true strength… it's not like rocks or even rivers.

"Rocks are broken down, rivers dry up. If you're looking for strength, Commander, look to the sun."

"And if I'm blinded?"

Rico let out a short chuckle, "Even blind men can feel the sun."

Her words left him stunned and even astonished. Eyes wide, he didn't realize he was staring at her until she glanced at him and looked away quickly, cheeks reddening beneath the rims of her glasses. Before he realized, a small smile of his own rose over his lips, small but genuine.

"I admit, when I first received the file with your name, I had been worried. But you've really allowed me to see I worried for nothing. You are quite the remarkable woman, Rico." He chortled gently.

The blush in her cheeks brightened and she fixed her eyes on the ground, stammering out a small, "Th-thank you, sir…"

"Erwin," He corrected her, turning his smile over to her gratefully. "Erwin is fine."

She gave him a slow nod, "Thank you…Erwin. And I feel the same… you are a good man."

Blinking away from her gaze for a moment, the light sensation in his chest froze. Through the flowers and the space that led toward one of the back entrances, Erwin's eyes caught the presence of Major Harke, yellow eyes watching curiously as he spoke with his match. Averting his gaze before arousing attention, Erwin remembered when that hateful woman had burst in on him and Hanji—and the idea of being discovered by her left him dreading what information would be sent over to the courts.

He could not afford them using Hanji against him.

He had no choice but to lead them astray…

Turning back over to Rico, the woman was reaching back to grab her pencil. Squaring his shoulders, the Commander considered all the possibilities, knowing that if there was a chance to gain some control in his favor… it would be now.

"Rico…" Lifting a hand, Erwin let his fingers curl over Rico's palm. The silver haired woman gave a start with surprise, turning big grey eyes up to look at him, inquisitively. He let his body shift slightly, looking into her eyes with an undeniable intensity. Breath caught in her throat, Rico's cheeks flushed a darker shade and her hand suddenly squeezed tight around his fingers. She didn't move away, captured by the tension he weaved between them. _I'm sorry._

"Wha-what are you doing?" She breathed as he leaned closer, swallowing when he rose his other hand to cradle her jaw.

"I'm grateful," He murmured softly. "That I've been paired up with such a remarkable woman, such as yourself." He was just an inch away, feeling the way the air that burst from her lips shuddered against his. Gently, Rico's eyes fluttered close, the warmth of her cheeks mixing within his palm as she tilted her chin upward. _I'm sorry… Hanji._

When their lips met, it was soft. The scent of flowers mixed with the scent of her breath, fresh and even soothing, but when she angled her chin further into him, he could feel a fierce shove of guilt tear itself into his chest. Because, strangely enough and despite the fact he was kissing a woman whom he didn't love, there wasn't a sense of wrong that came with feeling her press her hands against his shirt. It felt natural, even… and God hate him… it even felt… alright.

Erwin didn't realize what would have been worse, kissing Rico and feeling more like the scum he knew he was for betraying Hanji… or kissing Rico and feeling like he was being accepted within an embrace when he had been tossed on the street to die.

Either way, when they pulled away, (Rico returned to her writing, softly stammering out an incoherent phrase, and Erwin had been unable to loosen the smile growing over his treacherous lips), Major Harke was already walking away.

"I must get going," Erwin said after another moment of silence and saw how she nodded at him almost nervously. Plucking at a nearby violet stem, Erwin pulled the letter he had written from his pocket and left it on the bench between them before laying the violets on its surface. "Thank you again, Rico."

And feeling thoroughly disgusted and torn with himself, Erwin stood and left. Little did he know, that she lifted his token to her nose and inhaled its soft scent before pressing it within a page in her book and smiled softly.

Knowing even less how she proceeded to write in her letter.

_I am doing well here, Commander. The men have been welcoming and even kind… The Commander, even more so. If you recall correctly, sir, I once deemed love as a foolish emotion. Deemed it ridiculous and solely for children… but now…think…I may have judged too quickly and too brashly concerning the matters of the heart._

_You were right, sir. A little perspective changes things quite a lot._

* * *

"How has your day been?"

"Fine… it's been fine…"

Levi said nothing else as he lowered his tea cup and turned his gaze from the woman sitting across from him. Mikasa let out a soft sigh, feeling crestfallen and strangely wired, as if her nerves were more frayed than she had previously thought. It was no surprise… with such little sleep she had been able to enjoy with her fiancé…it was surprising she wasn't falling asleep already. Lifting a slice of beef to her lips, the young Oriental attempted to return to the spirit of their usual shared lunch times.

It was routine. It was established and it was usual…only… it had changed. The air between them lacked its usual comfort and ease, drowning her in what felt like a strained silence that she couldn't recall ever sharing with Levi. Glancing her dark eyes back toward his sitting figure, she hoped he would turn to look at her, send her the familiar small smiles he saved just for her and effortlessly make her feel like everything was going to be all right. He didn't, keeping his gaze over the slow swaying trees of the woods to their left.

"Just…fine?" Mikasa tried again, hoping he would catch her concern, catch the reason why she had insisted they dine alone and somewhere quieter and less cooped up. The memory of this morning's wake=up call tugged at the back of her eyes, bringing out the dark semi circles under his and making him appear…distant. Cold.

She had woken to Levi shooting off the bed with a strangled cry that sounded like a mix between a frustrated roar and a despairing sob, shaking, sweating, and grabbing at the knife he kept under the mattress. It took most of the following hour to get him to calm down, to release the knife he had stabbed against his chair and to bring some kind of lucidity back in his eyes. When he did and his ragged panting had been slowed down, he slowly collapsed to his knees, bringing her down with him. Mikasa held on to him in the middle of the floor, desperately trying to keep from crying when all Levi could do was grip to her waist and back, softly repeating, "Just stay. Just stay. I'll be fine. Just stay."

"I'm not going anywhere," She had insisted, gripping to his frame as hard as she could until he nodded and slowly pushed her away. In the dim of the lamp light and dawn haze, Mikasa lifting his face with her hands to look at her, searching his exhausted and dark rimmed gaze with a necessity to understand, to know what was plaguing him so, "Levi, please. Talk to me. What's happening?"

And yet, despite the soft tears that fell from her worried onyx eyes, he would only shake his head and run his fingers through the ink of her hair, "It's nothing. Just a dream."

"No, it's not." Mikasa returned, fingers clenching into fists when he pulled away and began to tug on his boots, still fighting off tremors. "I'm tired of you hiding this from me, why won't you talk to me?"

"There's nothing to talk about," He dodged, standing up and shrugging on his jacket. "They're just nightmares, Mikasa. We've seen more than enough to have our fill."

He walked away after that, leaving her to return back to his—their—bed and fight off the urge to scream and cry with the extreme frustration running rampant through her heart and fingertips.

"Levi…" Mikasa spoke after a cool breeze turned bitingly cold against their flesh for a second. The breeze died, their hair and clothing returning to their respective place and yet, he refused to look up at her.

"Hn." He responded, lifting his cup of tea back and taking a slow drink.

She hesitated, wondering how to start before letting her eyes fall shut. "I want to know about your nightmares." The sound of him adjusting in his seat sent a wave of anxiety through her stomach, making her feel nauseous and emotional. _Don't go._

"I've already told you," He sighed. Mikasa opened her eyes and saw him leaning back on his chair, his eyes far away and distant. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is." She snapped, feeling her patience wearing thin. She had always hated it when he pulled the superior attitude on her, and right now, she was feeling it like a thorn on her side. "You haven't had a good night's sleep in over a week. You've been more distant and you keep pushing me away when the reason I agreed to marry you is because we treat each other better than this. "

Levi's eyes narrowed as he reached back and placed his cup on the table, resting his elbows on his knees he blinked up at her with something akin to incredulity, "Distant?" He repeated.

Mikasa bristled, "Yes. Distant. You've been behaving this way and it's because you're exhausted. Hell, I'm exhausted. But, I'm more tired of you keeping whatever's haunting you away from me."

"It's not your burden to bear, Mikasa," He replied curtly. "I have this under control."

"Do you?" She challenged, leaning forward to meet his gaze evenly. "Because this isn't getting better, Levi. It's getting worse. Please, just… talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind! We used to be able to talk to each other about these things without this sort of tension! I'm worried about you."

He looked away again, and each moment he kept his eyes away was another thorn wedging itself in her heart. "The nightmares are nothing, Mikasa. Trust me on this."

She didn't buy it. Scowling, she crossed her arms, "Is this because of what happened between you and the Commander?"

Shoulders stiffening, Levi averted his gaze back to the tree line, "My conversation with Erwin has nothing to do with this."

"You're lying," She stated and he looked back at her with surprise. "I know you are. So, it is what you spoke about with him."

Levi's narrow eyes hardened into steel, "No, it isn't."

"If it isn't, then why is this so hard for you to talk about then?" Mikasa insisted, not realizing her breathing had shortened into short gasps of building anger. "All I ask is so that you can be honest with me!"

"Mikasa," Levi barked, making her give a sharp start away from him. "Watch yourself. You may be my future wife, but you are still my subordinate. My conversation with Erwin is none of your business, nor shall it be. These past few nights have been because of late stressors. There is no underlying reason. In our line of duty, we are forced to take upon certain weights and burdens for the sake of the cause. If I am ordered to keep things out of your knowledge I will do so without a second thought, but in no way will I accept you questioning me or my judgment just because of a few nights of rotten sleep, am I understood?"

The nausea strengthened, drugging her with a violent desire to kick something and Mikasa found herself craving the simple action of tossing her drink at his pristine cravat. She would not lie to herself now, his comment had wounded her, made her feel like she had stepped out of bounds but also dejected with the knowledge that despite their affections—he was right. He was her superior officer and as such, she had to respect him.

But it didn't mean she would not be able to enact her own sense of power over him. He may be above her in rank, but in this relationship they were equals. She would not hesitate to remind him that.

"…Understood, _sir_." Mikasa replied, hissing through her teeth. Slamming her utensils down on the table, she stood up and placed her fist against her chest in a grudging salute—more as an act of defiance than one of reverence. "If you'll excuse me, I have duties to attend to."

Levi seemed to realize the full extent of his blunder, noticing the angry pain that pulsed in her eyes and made her hiss venom in his direction. "Wait… Mikasa, don't…"

"Good day, Captain." She bade and with a firm click of her heels, turned and stormed off.

"Mikasa, wait!" He called, but she paid him no more attention as she focused on reigning the stinging prickle growing behind her eyes and making her feel unusually more vulnerable. _Damn him._ She cursed in her mind, willing herself to keep from crying.

Nauseous, irritable and wanting nothing more than to rip something in half, Mikasa left Levi to his own thoughts, ignoring the way he sighed and hoped he was berating himself for using his rank like that against her.

Watching her storm off was enough to make the taste of his tea become bitter, danker than the flavor he had preferred and after adding yet another spoon of sugar, Levi found himself completely unsatisfied with the end result, and it came by no surprise.

Cursing under his breath, the short Captain tossed the small teaspoon against the table and lifted that same hand to squeeze at the juncture of his nose and eyebrows. He had gone too far, he knew that. He knew he had crossed an unspoken line that they had both drawn the day that followed their established relationship. Both knew that there would be certain boundaries that needed to be crossed in slow passes, and while they both enjoyed and teased each other relentlessly on their age gap—it was a definite berth that needed healthy bridging.

It had been this gap that had originally pushed him to mind his distance from her, to keep from approaching her with anything more than a subtle curiosity. While the military considered her to be well enough responsible to command her own choices and how to sacrifice her life for humanity's cause, those first couple of years between them, Levi had spent watching her with the firm eye of a mentor, a teacher.

He had seen her potential, knew that her power and her approach to the murder of Titans was not unlike his own. In short, he saw much of himself in her almond shaped eyes. If he were to die, he needed to know that there would be someone out there that would be able to pick up after him and lead the rest of the soldiers onward.

Still, she had been so young—her maturity proved that when she clung to foolish grudges in the past. But she had grown and she accepted his command and put things aside because she understood.

The more they spoke, the more he realized how much she understood and how much she was willing to understand… and it was enough to enrapture him to her soul almost immediately after they fell to live under the same roof. He saw no child when he looked into her eyes, but despite this, he had dared not push her into something she would not be prepared to handle. Even when she had come, pleading into his eyes for resolution—for a chance to prove that she was not a child and could handle his burdens along with him—he had to push her away.

He regretted it, and the decision nearly destroyed them—but even though they finally accepted the promptings of fate, it did not mean there wasn't anything left to work on.

Mikasa understood this, accepted it when he had mentioned to postpone their wedding, so that these bridges could be completely established before they took their vows. God forbid they rush into a marriage that would collapse due to weak foundations.

Levi may know her well enough as a partner, a comrade and teammate, but they didn't know each other as a couple. They needed this time. They knew these arguments would happen… he knew that things would be said that would cause hardship… but this…

This was different.

This wasn't a secret he _wanted_ to keep from her. Each time he had burst from the violent images of gore and of her body being torn apart for the sake of information, he had wanted to tell her—to warn her and keep her alert to the possibility of this probable interrogation. Yet, Erwin's words stopped him every time, held his tongue from letting loose and spilling his every worry and concern and bring his own closure to fruition. _If she knows… then she could be placed into further danger. No. It is best if she remains in the dark about this. Mikasa is strong, Levi… but even the strongest can shatter when the right pressure point is pressed. Would you be able to risk them finding out her pressure point? Would you risk her safety for the sake of temporary relief?_

How cruel. He finally had her. Finally, he was able to keep her to himself, to love and cherish her as openly as he had wished all those nights spent in isolation… and now he had to push her away to keep her safe.

" _She'll understand when all this is done."_ Erwin had said, days ago, after Levi came in, angry and exhausted, wanting nothing more than to have some peace. _"Be patient. I know this is hard. Just be patient._ "

But now… because he had tried to shove her worries away, he had said things he shouldn't have, had crossed one of the lines she had meticulously worked out with him when they had their first lunch together as a couple.

" _I understand you are busy and you are still my commanding officer," Mikasa said, playing with a fraying string from her scarf. "But if we are to work together… I need to know we'll be able to work as equals. I need to trust you with knowing that you won't disregard me when we need each other."_

" _You know I will always place you first…Mikasa," He had replied. "But, we are soldiers. There may be times when I will not be able to tell you everything—will you accept that?"_

" _Yes. Will you?"_

"… _Yes."_

The memory of her smiling radiantly after he had agreed served as nothing more than a punch to his gut as he sat there, glaring a teacup.

"Shit." He cursed again and with a soft groan, stood up and left their uneaten meals to try to find a way to clear his head.

It was several hours into the day that Levi attempted to conclude his duties, and with his mood completely soured, dished out commands and orders without remorse or care for other soldiers. The men took to his demands easily, not wanting to cause further damage to his already crumbling good grace. He looked over inspections and when he had called his team for evaluations, he had found with profound chagrin that most of them were already quite aware of the quarrel he had shared with Mikasa earlier in the day.

It was mostly obvious, because for one, Mikasa had downright refused to show up to their meeting, and for another, he was still scowling like he had failed to kill a Titan or botched up a cleaning.

"I've talked to Erwin," Levi grunted after the individual evaluations of his team were all placed out of the way. "It appears it will take some time for some of your promotions to go through, but he expects that you should all be receiving your new ranks and positions sometime in the next two weeks."

Of all the people to speak up, Armin had to lift his hand warily—as if realizing that Eren's absence constituted him as the next best candidate to ask about him and Mikasa's current situation. Little bugger.

"Armin, we've been through this," Levi chewed out, frowning, "You don't actually have to raise your hand for a turn to speak."

"Ah, yes, sir. Sorry, Captain," Armin stammered out, cheeks flushing lightly before taking a sideways glance to his fiancé. Krista only bit her lip and glanced away, looking uncertain. "Well…uh…will…Mikasa not be joining us for the rest of this meeting?"

"No." Levi snapped and almost regretted how they all flinched and looked away. A short moment of tense silence followed before Sasha rose her hand. "Just speak up, Sasha. I'm not a goddamned school teacher."

Sasha squeaked before clearing her throat, "Did you two… fight or something… Captain…?"

Jean face-palmed, while the rest of the crew sans Mikasa and Eren openly gawked at Sasha and her absurdly ill-timed question.

"That's none of your business, Braus." Levi ground out through a tense jaw, "Let that be the last time you meddle in something that doesn't concern you."

Flushing pink, she let out a nervous gulp and nodded before turning her attention back down to the table.

"Would that be all?" Levi asked, turning narrow eyes over his subordinates with mock interest. No one else spoke up and with a firm nod he finished, "Good. Now that this conversation is no longer settled in my business, we can continue into actual relevant shit."

Dinner didn't get any better. He had hoped that with the remainder of the day, Mikasa would finally tolerate their previous spat and sit by his side for the last meal—he had even planned out an elaborate apology that ended with him actually saying the words "I screwed up, I'm sorry." Which was saying something because it wasn't often he admitted to a mistake like that—let alone apologize for it.

But he would do it because he loved her, and because he knew that when he had dabbled in matters of pride, he had almost lost her completely. No… Levi decided, he would not let that happen again.

When dinner time rolled in and the dining hall filled up with soldiers and staff people conversing about the day's events and even the last brawl between an MP and a Sergeant Major. Levi did not express much care for the news, shrugging it off when it concerned another squad and men he had no command over. He had grabbed his meal and sat down in his usual spot, spinning a small daisy he had plucked from the gardens between his fingers and keeping an eye out for his girlfriend.

Minutes passed, then an hour… then two. Mikasa had not appeared for dinner and at that point the flower's stem had been squeezed and stretched past recovery. Scowling and feeling worse than he had before, Levi stood from his table and tossed his hardly touched meal away. He marched back to his room, half-expecting her to be there waiting for him, hopefully willing to listen.

Instead, he found his room empty and lacking the warmth of her presence. A strong pang of isolation filled him to the brim, making the guilt and frustration do battle under the apple of his throat. Swallowing thickly, Levi shut his door and let his feet sound the echoes of his determination through the emptying hallways.

It was almost lights' out and it was not his night to do rounds, therefore he wanted nothing to do with other soldiers until he managed to get this matter sorted. It took him some time to recall the route to her room, they hadn't gone there more than once or twice since their engagement and it irked him to realize he had gotten lost the first time around. Luckily, he was able to situate himself enough to locate the proper direction. In the dark and dimly lit hallway, he stood before her door, scowling and breathing like he had ran the way there. His heart had been pounding mercilessly against his chest the second he recognized her door, remembered their first night together and how it had been behind this door.

He rose a hand to knock before noticing something off. Pausing, he listened and proceeded to feel like his heart had grabbed hold of a knife and cut a hole through his chest.

Through the door, he could hear her crying, soft sobs coming out muffled through the wood of her door and the guilt was quickly spun into wild astonishment. Dropping his hand, Levi gripped the handle and gave it a slow twist—thanking his stars that it was unlocked—and pushed the door in.

Door swinging inward, Levi let his eyes adjust to the darkness of her room, catching her hitching breaths and sniffles clearer now that there was no barrier between them. God, he felt wretched.

"Mikasa…?" He called softly and her cries abruptly stopped.

"Go away, Levi." She moaned, voice breaking on the last syllable of his name with another sob. That didn't deter him in the slightest. Closing the door behind him, he saw her shadowed frame curl tighter around the slim cushion of her pillow, laying in nothing but her nightshirt and pants. He took several soft steps closer before reaching her bed, feeling his heart pulse needles into his bloodstream the more she shook and trembled.

"Hey," He whispered, easing himself down to sit at her side. "Come on, hey."

"I said, go away." She shuddered, voice coming out slurred and mumbled through the fabric of her pillow and her own sorrow. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I thought you had wanted to talk."

"Oh, _now_ you do?" She shot back, sarcastic and bitter. "What a relief. Someone call his Majesty's court and issue a holiday for such a rare occasion."

Levi fought the urge to roll his eyes and retort something equally acerbic, recognizing she was now snide and snappish more out of a defense than to offend him. He had had enough years of banter experience with her to know this now. Still…he hadn't thought she would be so wounded by his insensitivity that it would make her cry. This…he hadn't been prepared for, nor was he entirely experienced with it either. He could only call to mention a few times she had cried in front of him, all of which he could count on one hand and still have fingers left over.

"Mikasa…" He sighed, leaning over to caress a lock of dark hair that had fallen over her eyes. "I'm sorry…"

The apology felt hard coming up but when it escaped past his lips, made him feel lighter, softer toward her still weeping form. It appeared that she hadn't expected this from him as much as he hadn't expected this from her. Her sniffling slowed and he felt her move around before he heard the sound of tissue paper being pulled from a box, followed by the sound of her blowing her nose. Cringing, he waited and let his hand fall back to his lap as she turned more toward him.

Eyes adjusting, he was able to finally catch some of her expression in the dark. She looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and something else he couldn't identify. Finally, she whispered, "Really?"

"Really," He promised and saw her hand begin to search for his. Their fingers curled around each other in a familiar hold that warmed the gaping hole that this fight had left in him. "I shouldn't have overstepped my boundaries. You were right… these damn nightmares and lack of sleep have turned me into less than tolerable… more so than usual."

He waited for her to reply with something snarky or darkly amusing, as she usually did, but instead he felt her run her thumb over the flat of his hand slowly. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

Air blew from his lips slowly and with excruciating inner turmoil, "…I…can't. Not yet."

"Why not?" It wasn't a demand, but an honest and genuine question of curiosity, no doubt stained with her pain.

"It has to do with a decision, and I can't tell you or the rest of the squad about it until enough time has passed. My nightmares… they're of my old squad." He took in a deep breath, debating but finally deciding. "…Of Petra." _And of you…_

In the dark he could hear her breathing, hear how she swallowed back the information he finally gave her and he hoped that this would be enough to satisfy her, that it would be enough to keep her from asking more questions.

"You miss them." It was no question. Levi let his chin fall to his chest, hair dangling past his forehead and obscure what little vision he had.

"Yes."

"You miss…her?" it was almost surprising how he caught the little waver in her throat, the little apprehension and uncertainty that drew concerned touches that he felt deep within the caresses of her thumb and her soft shifts on the bed.

"Yes…but I love you." He replied, and pushed forward to find the frame of her face with his other hand. He had found her shoulder instead and his grip was intercepted by her other hand, letting their fingers drift through digits and palms before finding wrists, forearms, shoulders and finally the crook of necks and curves of jaw lines. "I love you. Only you."

"I know…" She replied and he felt her fingers run over where his lips had creased in the ghost of a smile. "I love you, too."

"Good," He exhaled through his nose, leaning his cheek against her palm and let the hand he had pressed around the nook of her neck to press its warmth firmly against his lips, locating the soft spot of her wrist and pressing a kiss to its gentle thrumming. "I'm glad you do."

Mikasa shifted again, letting go of his other hand and retracting her circulating thumb to dig an elbow into her mattress and sit up. To his relief, it was a signal to the end of her questions and the beginning of a kiss that filled him with relief and a joy that had her name written into its skin. Their lips meeting, Levi brought himself closer to her frame and pressed the hand he had cradled around hers to the back of her head.

For a moment, the sound of their lips meeting again and again through the brief gasps of their breaths played music into his ears. He could taste the salt of her tears on her lips, feel the warmth behind her lips from the force of her emotional outlet and let his fingers erase the trails of sorrow that had marred her perfect cheeks. In this kiss, he could feel her acceptance of his apology and it ignited a familiar flame within his veins. Slowly, they fell back on her pillows and exchanged long and passion filled kisses and nuzzles that made him crave her again.

His hands roamed the familiar curves of her sides, finding easily the hem of her night shirt and soon the flesh hidden beneath. Usually, she would have aided him in its removal but her lips were suddenly pulling away and her eyes were fixing him a stern gaze that made him cease.

"Not tonight, Levi." Mikasa stated, firm and unyielding. Disappointment took like a dousing in his skin, yanking his stomach to plummet to the ground.

"Oh, come on," He groaned, trying his best to not appear like he was whining like a whipped pup. "Really?"

"I accept your apology," She said, "But I'm still mad at you for breaking one of your promises."

"Mikasa…" He didn't bother attempt hiding the whiny undertone in his voice now. That last kiss had left him all kinds of hot and bothered and he wanted nothing more than to make things right with his beloved. Mikasa did not back down, pressing a finger to his lips and meeting his gaze in the dark without a hint of weakness. "Oh, alright…" He sighed deeply, "Have it your way."

She smiled again and pressed a final kiss to his lips before he was pulling away and standing up from her bed. "Where do you think you're going?" She asked, as if she were speaking to a child. Levi frowned, easing back down on her bed, confused.

"My room. You don't want to do it right…?"

"No. But I didn't give you permission to leave," she huffed and he would've taken irritation to her tone if not for the relief still spinning him lightheaded. Her hand moved to pat the space next to her on the bed, "Bed time, future husband, and let that be the end of it."

Stifling a grin, Levi rolled his eyes and began to tug his jacket and clothes off, save his undershirt and boxers, all the while grumbling to himself good-naturedly. "Fine, fine," He muttered as he slid in next to her and was welcomed into her embrace. "I'll have you know that this is a clear abuse of your power over me."

"Keep talking like that and I'll decide to stay mad for the rest of the week, am I understood, Captain?"

"…Yes, ma'am."

"That's, 'yes, lieutenant,' and get your hands off my boobs, soldier. Don't get fresh with me or I'll kick you out."

"…Yes, lieutenant."

He would not admit it to anyone else, but there was a part of him that thoroughly enjoyed how she took charge and Levi made a mental note to save pushing her buttons for the special occasions that were sure to rise in the future that awaited them in marriage.


	8. What Winds May Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, like wind extinguishes candles and fans fires." -  
> Francois de la Rouchefocauld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This track’s inspired tracks are: ‘Ambre’ by Nils Frahm, ‘Morgenrot’ by Hauschka, and ‘Dedication, Loyalty’, by Nils Frahm

Blue eyes fretted over the ruined paint and wood in front of her while she worried her teeth over the curve of her thumbnail. Krista let out a soft groan, frowning when she saw Jean throw his arms in the air when the soldier he was talking to answered him in the negative. A few more words were exchanged between the soldiers that she didn’t catch before Jean let out a loud huff and walked away toward the worrying bride. Krista removed her thumb from her mouth, knowing full well how Jean would slap her fingers out from her teeth, growling,  “Quit that. You need your fingers for your wedding.”

“What’d he say?” Krista asked, pressing the hand she had been chewing on to her chest, chewing on her lip instead. Jean sighed, frowning before turning and standing at her side, looking back toward the damaged gazebo and the soldiers still trying to fix it. 

“Apparently, he thinks he’s some kind of expert or something,” Jean grumbled, rolling his eyes with great display of mock seriousness. “But he says that they can try to restore it back to its former glory without much problem.” 

“…But…?”

Jean sighed, “But it won’t be perfectly ready until next week.”  Krista let out a despairing groan, lifting her hand to press over her face. A pair of hands slowly gripped to her shoulders gently as Jean pulled her under his arm. 

“Hey, come on,” He hummed, “don’t worry, it’ll still work out. So we postpone a few days.” 

“We can’t postpone, Jean,” Krista sighed heavily, letting her head lean over his shoulder. “Armin and I have been looking forward to this for weeks! I mean, I know, granted, we don’t wait as much as other couple have before getting married… but we also have several members of the court showing up for the wedding. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to have to go through the trouble of writing them that we’re postponing. The last thing I want to do is deal with these people more than I ought to.” 

“You’re quite the people person,” Jean snickered. “Hard to believe you used to be such a doll.” 

Krista rolled her eyes before elbowing him in the side, “I’m still a doll, thank you very much.” 

“A total doll. The very best doll,” the tall soldier chuckled before lifting a hand to ruffle her hair with an affectionate grin. Krista smiled a short smile before letting out another long sigh and pulling away from her friend’s comforting hold. 

“Can’t they just… build a new one?” 

“It took them nearly two weeks to build this one,  Historia .” Jean shook his head, letting his hands fall back on his hips. “We’re just going to have to hope they can fix it up well enough for the wedding.” Turning his amber eyes to her face, he pursed his lips worriedly when he caught the depressed expression lower her lashes and steal the smile she should be wearing. 

“It’s going to be alright,” He soothed. “Don’t let it get you down, kay?” 

She blinked back up at him, offering a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Do you think they can have it ready in four days…?” 

“I’m sure it’ll look a lot better in four days,” Jean nodded and they looked back over to the men working on the gazebo. Their expressions fell when a large piece of plywood let out a large groan before snapping and falling down. Laughing nervously, Jean turned back to the paling expression on the petite woman’s expression. “That happens all the time, it’s not even a problem.” 

Krista let out another groan, dropping her chin to cover her eyes with her fists. A violent gale tore through the air outside, rattling hard against the windows and even the door, forcing everyone to gasp and duck with apprehension. 

“We’re going to be alright, right?” the question reached Jean’s ears as she looked worriedly over to the darkening sky outside the windows. “No more shattering glass or anything, right?” 

“You guys reinforce the windows yet?!” Jean shouted over his shoulder. The soldier he had been talking to nodded. 

“Got that taken care of before the Gazebo got messed up. Those windows aren’t slamming open any time soon.” 

Sighing with relief he turned back to the worrying blonde, placing another hand over her shoulder to snap her out of her worried stare. “Hey, look, we can still have the wedding ceremony in here.” 

Krista frowned before looking over the expanse of the dining hall, watching as soldiers ambled around here and there with their meals and watching as the group worked on fixing the gazebo. “Here?” She asked, uncertain. “I don’t know…” 

“Oh yeah, think about it! It’s perfect,” Jean said quickly, brightening as he took a step forward and waving his hands this way and that. “We can decorate the space, use the chairs we had outside and build the isle right down the center, we can even drag some of the tables over to settle for party favors and stuff. What do you think?” 

Krista tilted her chin, trying to see the picture Jean was so elaborately painting, “I’m not sure, I mean… The wedding’s in four days, Jean. Do you think we’ll have enough time to prep things up in time?” 

Her companion nodded resolutely, “Look at me, ‘Tori.” He said, turning her chin to look back at her and ignoring the way her nose wrinkled at the sudden nickname. “We may not be perfect designers, but we’re soldiers. And we can put it together in time for the day. It’ll work out better this way, too, since we won’t have to worry about the wind or anything…” he finished, crossing his arms and nudging a shoulder in the direction of the open room. 

Krista bit her lips again, but her frown was ebbing away and the familiar twinkle of excitement was finding home again within her eyes. Jean grinned again when she turned to him a small, growing smile. “Okay… I may not be completely fond of the alternative, but… if we can have something ready for the rehearsal dinner on Thursday then… let’s go for it.” 

Jean let out a victorious cheer, lifting a hand for her to meet with her own with a clap. “Alright! I’ll get to it…once I’ve had lunch…” 

The blonde haired woman let out a soft giggle after he ruffled her hair again and the pair went ahead to get their food while there was still food to eat. For a good while, things looked up and despite the worried glances they got from others who had been present when the mirror fell at the  Poltrabend , there was as brighter countenance to be shared between friends. 

“So, doing the wedding inside the dining hall…?” Connie asked, twirling his fork between his fingers and watching the men working at the damaged gazebo. “So are you still going to use the large thing or nixing it completely?” 

“It’d be a waste to throw it away now,” Krista said through a bite of beef. “It was a gift from the Commander. I can’t just toss that out.” 

“Yeah,” Jean agreed, nodding wisely. “Besides, once it’s been fixed—and honestly we’ll only need the front of the thing anyway—we can use it as a real elaborate altar. Trust me, I’ve got the whole thing figured out.” 

“Momma Jean’s got it all figured out, huh,” Connie teased, dodging the knife the man had thrown with a grin. “You’re so lovely, Jean. Can’t wait to see you wearing the pretty bonnet that goes to the mother of the bride.” 

“You can laugh now, Springer,” Jean griped, before reaching over and snatching his friend’s knife from beside his plate. Connie tried to snatch it back too late and Jean returned to carving his meal. “But we’ll see who’s laughing when it’s your turn to get married and you need someone to help Li manage that.” 

“Speaking of her,” Krista piped up, not noticing the way both Armin and Connie stiffened at the woman’s mention. “Where is the elusive Li? I haven’t seen her ar ound since Saturday evening with the whole…Military Police thing.. .” 

“Who knows,” Connie said quickly, feigning apathy. “She can do whatever she wants.” 

“She’s your match, Connie,” Krista quipped disapprovingly. “You should try to be nicer to her. Plus, she’s not so bad, I think. Even after rubbing her butt all over my fiancé’s lap, she’s still going to marry one of my friends. So it’s best to play nice and make friends. Right, Armin?” she finished with a bright grin  despite fiercely sawing at her meat with her knife. The two men leaned away, catching the dangerous gleam glowing in her eyes despite her kind words. 

She’s still angry.  They thought as she all but slammed her knife back down and daintily placed a slice of mauled beef in her mouth. 

“R-right, love.” He replied, chuckling despite the nervous sweat accumulating over his brow. “And-and anyway, I haven’t seen Sasha all day. Normally, she’s the first one in line for lunch and she still hasn’t shown up.” 

Jean scowled, as if just realizing that fact and turned around in his seat, eyes peering over the crowd of soldiers and the line of people grabbing their meals and heading to their tables. 

“Yeah…” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “That’s weird… I wonder where she is.” 

“Last I knew,” Connie spoke up again, nabbing a piece of Jean’s potatoes while the man was distracted, “She was helping one of  Moblit’s trainees run 3DMG drills by the north side of the castle. I’m sure they’re probably putting their stuff away now and heading back.” 

Armin shook his head, frowning, “I just got back from the north side. I didn’t see her team there at all and I’ve been there nearly all day helping  Keiji run inspections since he hurt his ankle. You sure it was the north side?” 

“Positive,” the shorter man affirmed, “I was talking to her about it over breakfast this morning. She wouldn’t shut up about how  \---- it was part of her evaluation for her promotion. Seems like she’s being considered for a Lance Corporal position too.” 

“Not so high and mighty now, are we,  Arlert ?”  Mikasa’s voice interjected and the group greeted her and their Captain when the couple approached with their meals in hand. 

“Hey,  Mikasa !” Armin greeted with a grin, “Captain! I thought you guys liked to spend your lunches alone…” 

“We do,” the young raven haired woman replied easily. At her side, Captain Levi bore his usual bored expression, but a deeper look at his face let them all know he wasn’t exactly enthused about this latest circumstance. “Our usual spot had a problem with one of the windows and since the weather’s bad, we decided to join you.” Upon further inspection, the tilt to  Mikasa’s smile appeared more smug than usual—the only tell-tale sign of a success against the older man standing at her side. 

Before anyone pointed it out (not that they would, I mean, God forbid) the couple was already moving toward the next available open spots at the table, right beside Connie and across the golden haired couple. 

“What’s this about  Braus missing,” Levi spoke up gruffly as he slid in beside Connie with  Mikasa in tow. The shorter buzz cut gave a little uncomfortable squirm and shuffled a bit further away, but dared not protest. “I was under the impression the drills were canceled.” 

“Canceled?” Jean repeated, pressing his elbows over the table and slapping Connie’s wandering fork away. “When?” 

The short Captain pressed the tip of his knife into one of the steamed vegetables on his plate, before reaching over to lift his cup of coffee and bringing it up to his lips. “It happened earlier today. Several of the Squad Leaders agreed to cancel the drills overseeing training the cadets due to the wind. Can’t fly if the weather’s threatening to rip you to shit.” 

“Well if drills were canceled…” Krista voiced, thin blonde brows furrowing as she placed her utensils down slowly. “Then where’s Sasha’s team?” 

A tense silence followed as the implication the question brought to light sunk in. Connie’s eyes widened before he dropped his fork and leaned over the table. “Wait,” he said, waving his hand to get their attention, “You guys are not thinking she’s still out there right?” 

“There’s a possibility,” Armin replied, scowling fully as he placed his elbows further on the table, lifting linked fingers to rest against his collar. “I didn’t know they were canceling the drills and I was around that area for several hours. It’s quite possible Sasha’s team probably went ahead with the schedule.” Instantly all eyes went over to Jean’s face. The spiky-haired man had paled visibly, his eyebrows dropped over his eyes in a sharp brooding expression. 

“ Kirschstein ,” Levi spoke evenly, focusing a stern expression over the soldier’s slowly panicking face. “Stay calm.” Jean gave several short nods and swallowed thickly, but everyone winced and gasped when another powerful gale ripped through the air outside. A loud crash ripped into the suddenly silent dining hall as all eyes jumped to its source. Through the dim light of evening and heavy overcast, they could make out the form of a torn branch scratching against the higher windows before it collapsed and disappeared out of sight. To their relief, the window held firm. The relief didn’t last long.

Jumping to his feet and ignoring his plate of food, Jean began to head out the dining hall, exclaiming over his shoulder, “I’m going to go find her!” 

“Jean, no!” Krista shouted, bouncing to her feet with the rest of the team following after. “You can’t go out there, you’ll be blown away!” 

“Think this through, buddy,” Connie exclaimed, jogging up to catch up to the soldier’s long strides. “It was just a theory. We never said she’s actually out there, for all we know she’s safe inside somewhere in the castle, probably stuck with some kind of punishment for breaking something again!” 

“And if she’s not?” Jean shot back, whirling around and facing them all with a furious expression. “And what if she’s really out there, probably crushed by some fallen tree or something and I do nothing?!” 

“Jean,” Levi’s smooth voice shook the brunet’s attention directly to him. Firm, calm and betraying no emotion, the raven haired man stepped through his subordinates and faced the taller man by placing a man on his shoulder. “Calm down. We’ll find  Braus … but not now.” 

“What do you mean not now?!” Jean exploded, fists clenching at his sides as he fixed their leader a frantic stare. “Our teammate could be in danger and you’d have us sit around and eat? She could be dying for God’s sake!” 

“I will not expose the rest of the squad to this weather,” the Captain replied, eyes flashing as he fixed him a firmer glare. “If Sasha is, indeed, out there, then we must hope and trust in her abilities as an expert in 3DMG, but I will not endanger the lives of everyone else for a mission that could cause more  casualties.” Jean bit down on his lip and exhaled a loud grunt of frustration before looking away and gritting his teeth. Another tense silence filled them as they watched and waited for Jean’s expression. It wasn’t long until he gave them a slow, begrudging nod. Krista let out a long sigh before reaching over to grip on to Jean’s hand in a comforting gesture. Armin followed by wrapping an arm around his shoulders, fixing their friend a grim, yet determined smile.

Lowering his hand, Levi proceeded to look over the rest of his squad. “For now, split up and search the castle. Armin, take  Historia and Connie to the North side of the castle and ask around for information concerning the team Sasha was last seen in.  Mikasa , find Major  Freidhelm and find out when the cancellation order was sent out—if we can narrow down when the teams received the orders and when the last of the drills were initiated, we may be able to find out whether or not she is safe.” 

“What about me, sir?” the tall cadet asked, lips tightening in a firm line. 

“You will stay with me, until we have our information.” Levi ordered, dark eyes narrowing. Jean let out a sharp exhale of shock. “You’re emotionally compromised, Jean.”

“Emotionally  compro \--!?”

“—I cannot have you running off outside like a chicken without its head into a windstorm. The last thing I want is two endangered team members because of an act of brash decisions. Trust your squad,  Kirschstein . We’ve all survived the war against Titans. I highly doubt a little wind will be enough to kill our own Sasha  Braus .” 

Jean lifted a hand to wipe at his face but made no move to run off, glaring heatedly at the ground. 

“We’ll find you the second we find something,” Krista said gently, smiling despite the worried flicker in her blue eyes. Jean nodded and watched them leave, fists clenching. 

“It’s going to be alright, Jean,”  Mikasa spoke. Jean nearly jumped when she pressed a hand over his arm, giving him a firm squeeze that was meant to be comforting. “Sasha is strong and knows how to hold her own in the wild,” She gave him a smile that made the comforting touch settle in his chest. “Even if she is out there, I’m sure she’s safe. Trust in her.” 

“Thank you… Mikasa .” Jean sighed, looking away in time to avoid seeing  Mikasa plant a kiss to their Leader’s cheek. 

“Let me know what you find,” Levi’s voice rose to his ears, soft and certain.  

“Aye, aye, Captain.”  Mikasa replied. Jean felt his face contort in an expression of confusion,  aye, aye, Captain?  It was so weird… but he let it drop once he heard  Mikasa’s footsteps begin to echo off, soft and firm against the stone. Glancing away from the ground, Jean looked over to the shorter Captain, before blinking in surprise. It was not an expression that he would’ve been properly prepared for—and while Captain Levi was usually a stone wall when it came to emotions, over the years the team had slowly gotten accustomed to his micro-expressions and tiny exposures of reaction. It was more out of necessity than discovery—being able to tell what the man was feeling in order to avoid getting into hours of drills that could easily be used for sleeping and other activities had become vital when they lived under the same roof. Even after they rejoined the main Corp it was still essential. 

Over the years, Jean had grown to not just survive the Dragon’s company, but even enjoy the short moments of twisted humor. Respect and honor were easy partners that culminated Jean’s esteem of the Captain, and he was pleased to say he received the same from the older man—and he figured that much out in being able to read the tiniest leaks of expression that poured through his dark gray eyes. 

These leaks of expression usually dabbled in moments of anger, violence, calm (or rather boredom… that was still a tricky one to discern), even amusement when he was in his lighter moods. Jean was actually there on the rare occasion that the Captain had let out a short laugh—which made everyone sort of panic but eventually calm down when he fixed them all an exasperated lift of his brow. 

In this educational journey of learning the many hidden expressions of Captain Levi, Jean had soon discovered a strange upset to the balance—and it had come in the form of  Mikasa . 

At first, Jean had felt affronted, hell even defensive in wanting to make his claim clear to the shorter Captain. But more than nothing, he had felt a sort of relief that  Mikasa would not return the older man’s prolonged glances. Her devotion to  Eren was just too strong, Jean had assumed. 

He was proven extremely wrong when he had found the duo one night in their cabin, talking in hushed tones on the porch while the rest of the team slept. It had confused him, but the answer was clear when he had seen  Mikasa (covered in a thick blanket) slowly lean her head against the Captain’s shoulder. Stunned, and hugely disappointed, Jean could only watch with the growing hole of rejection in his chest when Levi had let his head fall against the crown of hers. It only became clearer that theirs wasn’t a hopeless attraction that time the Titan that nearly killed Sasha almost crushed the Captain’s flying form.

Mikasa’s hysterical reaction was enough to leave the rest of the team feeling edgy (she was second in strength of covering emotion) and enough for Jean to let go of his unrequited affection for the raven haired woman. In the end, it worked out for them. For all of them. 

And now, Jean could feel his thoughts  nearly fall completely silent at the evidence before him. 

Because of all the expressions he had tried to discern over Levi’s flat face—the very last one he thought he would ever catch would be complete and reverent adoration playing like gray flames behind the Captain’s gaze as he followed  Mikasa’s exiting form. 

The shock alone was almost enough to distract Jean from his own romantic excursions. Almost. The image of Sasha’s grinning face came like a warmth that turned bitingly cold in his chest.  The worry and concern returned  full force when the tall soldier remembered why he was standing by his Captain’s side rather than tugging on his equipment to his hips.

In a blink, the look disappeared within the stainless steel of the Captain’s eyes as they turned back over to him, calculating. “Let’s head back to the dining hall.” 

“Y-yes, sir…” Jean agreed, still reeling at the private exchange he had caught. He almost felt like he had intruded into something that should not have been seen. 

When they arrived, Jean had jumped into his meal at the Captain’s expectant glance. He honestly tried to focus on the taste of his meal, tried to savor the softness and rare salted flavor of his potatoes and the tenderness of his meat, but each bite only resulted in yet another shot of anxiety that churned at his stomach. 

Another thought rose to the front of his mind, making his rapid chewing slow and the scratching of his utensils on his plate to cease.  What’s wrong with me…? We’ve faced worse dangers before. Sasha had ripped into the mouth of an aberrant once! She could handle this weather. Hell, didn’t we have to figure out how to maneuver in similar conditions during our trainee years? She’s going to be fine. Cool it. 

Easier said than done. Fingers scratched at his scalp, gripped to the nape of his neck while his foot tapped out rapid rhythms against the ground, each grunt of frustration increasing in length whenever the wind’s screeching rose and fell. 

Something was definitely wrong with him. He hadn’t behaved this way before when it came to Sasha. If anything, for most of their years, Jean could easily admit that he hadn’t felt more than somewhat concerned for her safety—but this? This was an egging and scratching at his stomach and chest, burrowing rising headache behind his brows to pulse at his temples. He had never felt like this before—even less when it had come toward  Mikasa , or  Eren —hell even with Armin, and he had shared near death experiences with that boy left and right. 

“ Kirschstein ,” Levi’s voice came to him again after another twenty minutes passed. 

“Y-yeah?” Jean asked, nearly kicking himself for stuttering. He ended up shutting up completely at the shadow looming over the man’s narrow and obviously irritated gaze. 

“You tap that fork on the table one more time and I will stab it through your neck.” 

Jean’s hand stopped and he gulped, surprised he hadn’t realized he had been tapping the end of his fork against the wood in quick raps. “S-sorry.” 

“You’re worried,” Levi commented. Jean fought the urge to snort and roll his eyes, knowing full well that when the Captain places threats, he’s one step away from making them happen. 

“Yes.” 

“ Mikasa’s told me the two of you are involved.” Today was just full of surprises apparently. 

Jean didn’t know how to react, sputtering out uncertainly, “I…uh… yes…?” 

Levi nodded again and reached fo r his cup of coffee, gripping it  in the unusual way that was his unique hold before taking a sip and resting an elbow on the table. “Is it serious?” 

Jean could feel the blood in his body slam to a stop. Amber eyes blinked in rapid flutters as his mind took in the question and the ever present gaze of expectant boredom on his superior’s eyes. “What do you mea—as in serious? Like exclusive? Like, we’re together exclusively?” 

“Was the question really that unclear?” The raven haired man asked, replacing his cup on its saucer before lifting a fork and stabbed it through a shred of beef. Jean swallowed back the urge to sputter out his thoughts all at once. In anyone else’s presence, he might have—he would have completely, only he had learned that their Captain had a very low tolerance for incoherent phrasing and word vomit. 

Jean bit down on the inside of his cheek, dropping his gaze away from Levi’s to focus on the cold plate of half-eaten lunch. The answer was simple, even at this point, Jean knew exactly whe re he was with Sasha. She’s been  his girlfriend, his friend, lover… but this worry that clung to his throat with such a bitter aftertaste… it made it seem less simple than he had previously figured it was. 

“Yeah,” He admitted with a slow exhale, “I mean, I think it is… sort of… maybe…” 

The shorter man let out a soft “ Hn ,” of acknowledgement but said nothing else, allowing another silence to fill the space between them. For a few moments, talk and conversations rose and fell in synchronicity with the howls of the wind. Every once in a while the air outside would let out hoarse shrieks, making everyone (save the real hardened veterans) wince or flinch uncomfortably. Jean pushed his meal away, deciding to cross his arms over the table and focus on the way his leg bobbed up and down against the floor, waiting for the time to pass. It was certainly a strange situation he found himself in, that’s for sure. Captain Levi had given them all kinds of advice in the past, ranging from how to cook their meals to the best formations to take when killing 20-meter class  Aberrants …

But never, in all their years of acquaintanceship and familiarity, had Jean been asked so forthright about his love life by the man. It was strange enough seeing him behave so… gently … with  Mikasa , as if he was no more than a young man barely discovering the springtime of his youth—on top of that, Levi was asking him about his relations hip with Sasha. To him, Levi had always  been  a figure of respect, high esteem, and honest-to-god ridiculous power—Jean had no problem trusting his life in this man’s hands… 

“Winter seems to be making quite the entrance…” the Captain’s voice hit him from across the table, low and pensive. Jean blinked away from the stains on his plate to peer at his superior’s expression. Grim, serious, Levi looked as he usually did when contemplating the next serious move. It only made the itching and worry rise further in his chest. 

“Jean,” said man nearly jumped out his seat. Steel blue eyes rolled over to meet his with a certain shadow, deepening the dark half-circles under the older man’s eyes and making him seem so much older… “If Sasha means a lot to you… you shouldn’t waste any more time.” 

“ Wh -what do you mean?” 

At this, Levi’s face softened into an almost sorrowful expression (but honestly, it was hard to tell. For all Jean knew—and it may just be thrown upside down, at this point—this expression meant some kind of upset stomach or… something) before letting out a soft sigh through his nose. “I know this is difficult for you… but take it from me. It does no good in putting things off. The Titans may be gone… but we are still not living in complete security. I cannot assure you that many of us will be around for long. So, figure out your feelings for Sasha… and make a decision soon. Deadlines are the hours of  the  evening that sneak up on you when you least expect it. Choose while you still can.”

Thoroughly floored, Jean could say nothing in response , but swallow back the bitterness and lift a hand to rub at his mouth. Conversation faded to black around them as they waited for news. 

Choose while you still can… the words echoed in his mind. 

Choose what? A life of marriage with Sasha? Jean knew he cared for her, he dare even say he cared very deeply for her. She had become more than just a friend, Sasha had become one of the people he enjoyed being with the most. Even many of the things that had irked him no longer seemed to press his buttons in irritation—in fact, they only added to her appeal and allowed him to find more reasons to keep warming up to her. 

Even so… they had maybe another month or two before winter came and the deadline was certain on the horizon. It was hardly enough time to properly decide whether or not he wanted to live with this girl  and raise children with her. It had played his fantasies, yes. But, dammit, he isn’t Armin! He couldn’t just decide right then and there that he wanted to tie himself so irrevocably to a woman he was still getting to know in such an intimate level. Heaven forbid they do end up married but their relationship fails… and all because they rushed into something neither was prepared for… 

It’s not that Jean was in love with Sasha… right? 

It’s too early to tell… He thought to himself, morose.  It’s much too early to tell. 

Didn’t she confess her love for him? What if they agree to marry but he ends up falling in love with someone else? If his affections for her fall short of the love she bears for him? He couldn’t do that to her. That was dishonorable.  More dishonorable than breaking her heart and letting her marry some stranger? 

The thought made the bitterness rise with unprecedented vigor, stabbing him in the roof of his mouth and making the churning in his stomach nearly explode into a complete rolling boil. It was nearly enough to make him sick. 

Minutes passed and after Levi had made it a key point to trust Jean into not throwing himself out the windows to find Sasha, the short Captain stood to find his fiancé and the rest of his squad members to see what was the hold up. Jean had agreed to stay in the dining hall, deciding that his train of thought would do him no good in assisting any search operation—despite his ardent desire to strap on his gear and go blasting off into the woods for her—the tall man settled on trying to work on what decorations would work best for Krista’s wedding. 

Levi had fixed him a strange stare at that but made no comment on it, giving him a one-shouldered shrug before striding off, throwing a final warning over his shoulder that forced the threat of severe discipline if Jean deviated from his orders. Tossing food away, Jean stood and paced this way and that, pointedly ignoring the way his stomach clenched every time the wind screeched and the windows shook. At one point even the great double doors of the entrance let out sharp creaks of complaint against the barrage of wind and nature. 

Jean could do nothing more aside from throwing himself over to the men still working on the Gazebo and took the nearest hammer that was available. When in doubt—make good work. It was a simple saying his father had once told him as a youth growing in  Trost . His parents were dead, but that didn’t mean their words were gone completely—their legacy still lived on. And so, Jean settled his mind into a focused silence and assisted in what he could… if only to get the ever growing concern to shut the hell up. 

Two hours passed since the squad split up in search for news when Connie appeared back in the dining hall, looking grim and exhausted—clothes looking damp and windswept. The buzz cut’s appearance made Jean nearly drop the large piece of plywood he was assisting in taking down—much to the shouts of irritation from the other men—before nearly tackling the brooding looking man. 

“Connie!” Jean called as he walked over to the entrance, waving when the buzz cut perked up at the sound of his name and fell into step toward him. “What news? Is she safe? Have you guys found her yet?” 

Connie’s eyes crinkled with uncertainty, his lips parting with a gathered breath that stopped before it could be released. “…No…” He revealed, making the hope in Jean’s chest wither. “No luck finding her… Uh… But we’re going to find her, jean. No doubt about it.” 

The anxiety nearly sunk back into another burst of panic, escaping in sharp huffs of air through his lips and a furious pacing and fisting his hands to keep from exploding out of the room to find his equipment.  Follow orders.  Jean thought to himself, biting down hard over his lip and throwing a couple of digits to pick at a splinter in the web between his thumb and index finger.

“I don’t understand,” He growled through gritted teeth. “How could she be missing? Did you at least find out if she’s inside? Do you know anything about her whereabouts? Come on, Connie, talk to me.”

Connie only sighed heavily, running a hand over his scalp before rubbing at his jaw, probably dealing with his jaw locking because of the tension. “Jean… Sasha’s team… never got the cancellation memo… When we found nothing, Krista, Armin and I met back up with  Mikasa and the Captain. They spoke with Major  Freidhelm and one of his lieutenants. We managed to find the log where Sasha had signed in for the drills. They left before the memo was realized…” 

The room became dreadfully silent as Connie’s words sunk in, casting the whirlwind of thoughts he had been fighting into a sudden stand still. 

“So…” Jean heard himself speak. “She’s still out there…?” 

Connie winced. “We think so… yeah. I mean, we’re still not sure!” He said quickly after Jean let out a fierce exhale. Speaking fast and attempting to direct the taller man from exploding, Connie continued, “There’s still the rest of the castle to search, okay? Captain Levi’s already ordered some more men to search the grounds for Sasha’s team. Just stay calm, Jean. She’ll show up.” 

“That’s what you said before…” the brunet hissed, nails biting into his palms as the last of his restraint held. “…I’ve been busy here getting splinters on my fingers and she could be completely mauled by a tree branch or blown leagues away from here! For all we know, she’s completely lost in this freak wind storm, starving and afraid while I sit here doing  nothing !!” 

Connie lifted his hands in a calming gesture, but his expression was all but calm—looking more distressed the more Jean grew more and more heated. “I understand you want to go out there, man. But, seriously, you’ll do more harm than good if you go out there.” 

“At least I gave a shit enough to go and search for her!” Jean exploded, throwing his hands in the air. “At least I could say I tried to find her, instead of wasting my time!” 

Connie let out a sharp exhale, scowling with growing irritation, “And do what, get yourself in a similar or worse predicament? You forget that Sasha isn’t by herself, Jean. She’s with a team. Trained soldiers , of whom had to learn survival skills in order to pass the trainee stations. That’s one thing she’s got that you’re ignoring. You go out there by yourself and you’ll die!” 

Jean nearly felt like kicking something over. “Then why don’t you help me?!” 

“Do you not believe in her at all, Jean?!” Connie shot back, silencing the taller man. “Is your head so far up your own ass that you’re willing to cast aside your faith in her because of fear?” The wind howled  again before dying back down, casting them in a certain silence. Jean stared in shock at the short man, nearly gaping. 

“I’m… that’s not…” He murmured, realizing then and there that the rest of the dining hall had quieted to direct their attention over them. Connie seemed to realize this too, because he was letting out a short grunt of frustration through his nose and returned to rubbing at the back of his scalp and base of his skull. 

“For a dude who’ s in love you lack serious faith in your girl, man.” Connie huffed. 

In… love? 

“I’m not…” Jean began but the words slowly died.  I think I love you too…  The reminder of feeling Sasha’s warmth against him, feeling her breath in his ear as she panted out a heartfelt confession burned into his chest. It had been in her arms that he had known… had wanted to repeat the three words back and truly claim this woman as his own. 

Why did the thought fill him with such conflict now? 

“This wind won’t last long…” Connie sighed after another uncomfortable silence, throwing an exasperated glare at the rest of the soldiers in the dining hall and they all returned to their business promptly. “Give it some time. ” He said, turning to Jean with a sympathetic look. It almost made the taller man snap with an angry retort.  “ It’ll die down. She’ll be back soon, Jean, and stuffing herself with bread and meat faster than you can think. You’ll see.” 

Three hours later, they all noted with relief how, true to Connie’s words, the wind did die down. The sky was still heavy with dark clouds, but fading sunlight burst through spaces and announced the incoming dusk with a sort of drugged speed. All, of course, save Jean. 

Five hours and still there was no sign of Sasha, and his worry and concern had had enough time to metastasize into full blown dread and fear—spreading in tumor like splotches through his chest and making him feel drained of all energy. It was not an easy ordeal, but the change in the weather did enough to spur him into finally moving, determined and ready to fly off into the woods in search for the auburn haired woman. 

With Captain Levi nowhere to be seen, Jean dropped the remaining supplies of wood and nails. “You guys good?” He asked the men that still worked on the broken pieces and removing bent nails from the gazebo. They all let out several calls of encouragement, having sent him comforting glances and sympathetic slaps on the shoulder throughout their work. 

Every once in a while, the air gave sharp gusts of wind, rattling the windows and shaking doors—as if reminding them that this time of respite could end just as quickly as it had been given. 

To Jean, this was an opportunity that should not be wasted. Captain Levi would understand why he had to deviate from his orders, and Jean could honestly say that any punishment the man could dish out was worth the chance he had to find Sasha. 

He had taken maybe ten steps out of the Dining  Hall’s doors into the main hall way when he heard a commotion near the entrance, several people were already making their way toward the scene. Curious, Jean followed, and feeling his heart pound in his chest he tried not to let his hopes rise. 

“OW! Careful, Fitz!” He heard and his heart jumped instantly to his throat, recognizing that voice anywhere. His steps burst into a full sprint, pushing people here and there out of the way. 

“Sasha!?” Jean called, elbowing past a short, mousy looking cadet. At the center of the commotion stood several soldiers looking worse for wear, many of them were clinging to limbs and nursing head wounds, but all of them looked as relieved as he felt—as if he had been the one weathering this wind storm along with them. To the side, he spotted her. Captain Levi,  Mikasa and Armin were standing by her, while Krista looked over her injuries and it would have been a wonderful sight to his eyes…

If not for the soldier that held Sasha up, arms curled around her waist and back protectively and watching her with a concerned, even sheepish smile. 

“Jean!” He heard her exclaim and his eyes jumped back to hers, feeling the sensation of relief strangely sting with another feeling altogether. He moved close, glancing back between the tall and wild haired cadet and the woman in his arms, trying not to feel irritated. 

“Sasha, are you alright? Are you hurt?” Jean asked, noticing how her clothes looked filthy and her hair stuck up in odd angles. The entire right side of her body looked specially torn, and the way she wasn’t leaning her weight on her right leg made him quickly realize that she was less than okay. 

Regardless, she fixed him a bright, albeit strained, smile. “Yeah, I’m alright. Starving!” 

At that,  Mikasa and Armin shared small smiles while Levi shook his head softly. Krista giggled and straightened from her position on the ground, releasing Sasha’s leg and wiping a hand over her forehead. “Well, the good news is,” Krista announced, turning her smile over to Jean. “She’s only been bruised. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have her spend some time in the infirmary.”

“All thanks to Fitz!” Sasha piped in, grinning toothily and patting the soldier holding her up warmly against his chest. The  brunet grinned back, and Jean easily saw how the man’s hand slid up and down her side, gentle and almost unnoticeable. It made the sting in his chest tighten and spark a sort of violence in his blood. “If you hadn’t been such a perfect meat shield, I would’ve been blown off.” 

“What can I say,” Fitz responded, shrugging with a pleased twinkle in his pale amber eyes. “I’ll do anything for the ladies.” 

Sasha laughed, breathy and tired but alight with amusement. It made Jean’s fingers twitch. “Alright, I think that’s enough.” Jean said, scowling and taking another step closer to the two intertwined soldiers, forcing his tone to come out as normal as possible. “Krista says you’ve got to get to the infirmary, right? Let’s get going.”

“Don’t worry,  Kirschstein ,” Fitz said, smiling good naturedly. “I can take Sasha to the infirmary. Don’t want to jostle her too much. She landed rather brutally against a branch earlier.” 

“Nearly broke all my ribs,” Sasha nodded, wincing when they swayed, and unconsciously bracing herself more against Fitz’s body. In response, his hand wrapped further around her waist and braced against her hips, making them appear to be wrapped in a lover’s embrace. Jean had had enough. 

Moving more resolutely, Jean shoved his  way toward Sasha, gripping on to her shoulders to pull her off her comrade. “I think I should be the one to take her. Thanks for your help.”

“No, no, I got it.” Fitz protested, frowning when Sasha let out a tiny hiss of pain through her lips. “I’ve already got a hold of her, Jean. It’s no problem.” 

“I appreciate all you’ve done in keeping her safe,” Jean grunted, grabbing the other man’s arm and roughly attempting to get him to let go. Sasha let out a sharp exhale, turning an alarmed expression over to Jean. “But you look tired, Fitz. I’m more than capable in helping her out.”

“Ah,” Sasha exclaimed, grimacing. 

“Sasha, you okay—??” Armin tried to ask, not knowing where to help while Jean tried to shove her into his arm. 

“Jean,”  Mikasa’s voice followed, but he quickly ignored them. Wanting nothing more than to just rip Sasha away from Fitz’s arms, he persevered, not realizing he was being too gruff. 

“Hey, hey,” Fitz spoke, scowling. “Easy, man. I said I’ve got—” 

“Hey, Fitz,” Jean snapped, seething through his teeth. “You  wanna get your fucking  paws off my girlfriend, buddy? I said, I’ve got her !”

Krista gasped, no doubt shocked at his sudden slew of profanity. “Jean…!” The rest of the atmosphere fell in a tense silence. Sasha looking up at him with a shocked expression that slowly morphed between pained and angry. Fitz seemed to have gathered enough to understand exactly what was going on, his face falling into a simple appraisal before letting his arms slide off from Sasha, stepping back as Jean quickly stepped in to cradle her form from the side Fitz was holding. 

“Alright man, no problem.” Fitz said easily, shrugging when Jean tossed him a violent glare after Fitz attempted to help adjust his girlfriend in place. “Didn’t mean any disrespect, I’m just worried for her.”

“Not necessary,” Jean grunted and began to hoist Sasha away, despite the girl’s tight grunts of pain. Ignoring the pointed glances from the rest of his team, Jean pushed through the parted crowd and strode purposefully through the halls. 

“Jean…” Sasha groaned, gr ipping to his shoulders and digging her nails through the coarse fabric of his jacket. “Slow down.” 

He didn’t quite seem to hear, trying to wipe the image of Fitz holding on to her body as if they were made for each other. It made him feel sick to his stomach.  Is it serious?  All of a sudden, the image of her being held like that by any man made him feel nauseous. The thought of Sasha smiling and laughing in someone else’s arms dug into him like a knife, filling him to the brim with a fierce desire to keep her glued at his side. He hadn’t been certain, had thought that they would progress and find holes in their relationship as all other couples do. When he had decided to take her as his girlfriend, Jean had promised himself to keep his survey in mind. 

A new thought hit him then. The thought of being told to marry someone else made the blood run cold in his veins. It felt so wrong, made him feel so sick… so disgusted… 

Get a grip . Jean thought fiercely , but the thoughts failed to leave him, dragging him down into a spiral of anger and desperation. The previous dread was morphing again, making the tumors that had spread through his chest burn with the desire to make it known to everyone… not just Fitz. The thought that  had added the adrenaline to his fingers when he touched Sasha for the first time all day.  Mine. She’s mine. She’s mine.

“Jean!” Sasha’s voice rang hard in his ear, making him nearly drop her with surprise. They stopped, his ear was ringing where she had shouted. When he turned to look at her Sasha looked ready to punch him in the face. “Will you slow down for a second? You’re hurting me, jerk-off!” 

Sobering, Jean blinked, registering the pained huffs of air blowing through her lips and realized his hold on her was certainly too tight. He loosened his hold and she let out a loud sigh of relief, loosening the vice like hold she had dug into his shoulders.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” She asked, pulling away to fix him a deep look of disapproval. 

He could feel the anger of before rise again, spinning and churning in his chest. “What’s gotten into me? I’ve been worried sick all day for you, Sasha! I’ve been wanting nothing more than to go  out and look for you and after  hours , Sasha,  hours of waiting for a sign, a hint—hell---a simple notice that you were alive and okay, I see you draped all over that guy like some…some…”

Sasha’s eyes hardened, “Like some…what, Jean.” She hissed lowly, not liking where he was going. Jean let out a hard gust of air through his lips, snarling as he turned and restrained from punching the nearest wall. 

“Don’t you get it?” He snapped, running his fingers roughly through his scalp. “I was worried, Sasha!” 

“I get that, Jean. I’m not an idiot!” She shouted back, crossing her arms but winced when she touched her right arm the wrong way. “But that’s no excuse for your behavior back there! Fitz saved my life. He shielded me from the wind when I hurt myself. The least you could do is show some respect! I wouldn’t be here if not for his help. So stop acting like such a jerk, just because he was holding on to me.”

The tall senior cadet set his jaw before taking a series of steps close to her before bending over and scooping her legs up, sweeping her off her feet and holding her to his chest. 

“Ah! Dammit, Jean!” Sasha exclaimed, biti ng on her lips as he gripped her left side and tried not to jostle her too much despite storming down the hall way. When he made a swift turn left, she blinked in confusion. “Where are you going, the infirmary is the other way!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He shot back. 

“I’m starting to seriously doubt it!” 

“Will you just be quiet?”

“NO! I WON’T!” Sasha exploded, glaring at him through enraged butterscotch eyes. “Now, put me down! Or I’ll kick you!” 

He ignored her as he marched, ignoring her shouts of indignation as he moved toward the familiar hallway of the barracks. Soon they appeared in front of his door and with a quick maneuvering of his hands, was able to open his door and push them both through it. At this point, Sasha had fallen silent, glaring off into the distance and refusing to look at him even after he had set her down gently on his bed. 

No words were spoken between them as he stood and headed over to his nightstand and yanked out a long bottle of cream that smelled an awful lot of menthol. Moving back to Sasha, Jean set the cream down at her side and began to shrug off her jacket. She hissed in pain as he did so but made no move to stop him, keeping her gaze firmly on the door. 

“Can you lift your arms?” Jean grumbled after his fingers found her shirt and began tugging it out from her pants. Sasha didn’t move or respond and he let out a long-suffering sigh before letting his fingers find the buttons of her shirt. Slow and quick all at once, he began to undress her—and while the act alone appeared sensual, it didn’t feel that way. But, when he glanced up, he could see a soft tint of a blush on her cheeks, her lips pressing together in a firm line. 

A sudden wave of tenderness hit him, filling his throat until it was hard to swallow, and the tenderness was only strengthened by a feeling of guilt when he opened her shirt and saw the very nasty bruise taking most of her skin on her right side. Jean stopped his movements, hands ceasing and grasping tightly to her shirt as he looked over the massive blemish. 

Slowly, he dragged the shirt down her arms, taking in her ragged breathing and gentle trembling with a grim set of his lips. The guilt worked hard against his chest when he realized how painful it looked. Her skin as red and purple, the colors spreading like angry stains down from her shoulder and arm, through her ribcage, down her oblique to disappear beneath the fabric of her pants. 

Lifting gentle fingers up, he caressed the surface of the bruised skin. Sasha gave an involuntary recoil at that and he retracted his hand quickly. 

“You’re going to need ice.” He observed softly. 

“I’d get ice if I was at the infirmary.” She ground out, but her voice was softer as well and her eyes had fallen down to settle over his chest. Jean sighed and reached over to grab the bottle and squeezed the strong smelling cream into his palms.  “What is that… it smells like peppermint?”

“It a special cream I bought from the merchants the last time they were here.” He explained as he rubbed the soft cream over his hands before straightening up to sit behind her where the bruise began. “It works real well against bruises.” 

“If you had it all along why didn’t you use it for your face?” She asked, hissing out a low groan when he pressed his hands over her shoulder blade and massaged the tender muscles as gently as he could. Jean let out a soft chuckle. 

“I tried to but you were angry at me. Every time I tried to talk you would only hit me or grunt. I figured it’d be best to just leave you be.” Sasha let out another grunt but her body was slowly relaxing, erasing whatever retort she probably wanted to say as he slid his fingers under her bra strap to reach the skin there. “Anyway… this will help with the pain and swelling… but I’m going to get some ice to help with the rest.”

“Not yet…” She sighed, leaning closer to his touch. “It feels good.” Jean felt another feeling lift, warm and swirling at her words and he let himself obey. Soon his fingers meandered down to her ribs, but when his hands were interrupted by the fabric of her bra, he paused.

“I’m going to take it off…is that okay?” Sasha nodded and even shivered when his fingers met at the center of her spine to grip on to the hooks of her underwear. The material loosened, but Jean didn’t remove it completely, settling back into working the cream through her bruised skin. 

For a while he worked her back, moving to her arm and sliding his fingers around to her ribcage. When he did, her hands reached up to grip on to his to bring him closer. Jean complied, allowing his clothed chest to meet her bare back as he rested his chin on her left shoulder, nudging her windswept hair away with his cheek and he pressed a soft kiss on the base of her neck. 

“I’m sorry,” Sasha sighed, flicking her thumb over his  as she rested her head on his shoulder. The warmth between them intensified as his fingers still massaged her ribs and traveled to her belly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He returned. When she pulled away, she looked at him with wide eyes, as if searching for something in his gaze. She seemed to have found it because the next thing he knew, Sasha was pulling of f the rest of her bra and pressing a hot kiss against his lips. 

The fears of earlier broke in his chest, making him want to grip at her skin tighter, pull her firmer against his chest and press her harder against his bed. He refrained, however, because of her injury, but the tingling the cream caused between them felt marvelous and soon, Jean could feel his restraints fall apart as she worked her fingers under his shirt. 

Carefully, they laid on his bed. Clothes fell and while he kissed her, he applied more cream to the vast expanse of her thigh where the bruise continued. Soon, his touches became less and less medically driven and more to remember the way she felt against him. Her soft gasps mingled with pain and pleasure, but it was obvious between the two of them that she felt the same desire to bring him closer—as if sensing his distress and wanting to put end to it. 

Skin met skin as he pressed over her, rhythmic and stuttering out strained pants when she let out little sharp groans that signified more pain than relief. They moved in gentle waves and when they reached a peak, Sasha pulled him ever tighter, tasting his tongue with prolonged affection that made the warmth in his chest overwhelm him. 

“I love you…Jean.” She sighed as they struggled to catch their breath. 

The following words both stunned and liberated him. 

“I love you, too, Sasha.” 

Sasha froze beneath him, blinking wide eyes back against his in shock, as if wondering if this were real. The confession made the warmth in him spread everywhere, from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair and for the first time in his life, Jean knew he meant every syllable, consonant and intonation of it. 

“I do…” He breathed, cradling her cheek with trembling fingers. “I love you. I want to be with you, Sasha. More than anything.” 

Sasha’s cheeks burned bright red, her eyes filling with tears as her hand shot to grip his against her flesh. “Jean… really?” She  squeaked through a tiny breath and Jean could only feel the full weight of his words… but they no longer felt like anchors—they had become the pressure of keys being turned and shackles being released. 

“I want to sign the engagement document with you, Sasha.” He said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. “I want to marry you.” 

Sasha let out a dipping sob, her belly constricting against his as she wrapped her arms around him despite his mindful distance to her injury. “I want to marry you, too.” Sasha laughed, tears escaping her eyes and hitting his fingers as he tilted her chin to kiss her. “Yes, Yes.” She chanted after every kiss. “I want to marry you, yes.” 

And even though she repeated herself over and over, each word and each confirmation made him feel like he was soaring higher and higher. He wanted to hear her say it over and over again, and throughout the re st of the evening, she did, only stoppi ng when her stomach made a very loud protest for food. Kissing her lips, he quickly dressed himself and ambled off to get them both dinner, insisting she stay in bed and rest while he did. She kissed him harder at that.

Jean made sure to get her the biggest platter of food he could get his hands on—because the way her eyes lit up and her smile widened at the sight was worth every shout of indignation he got from the  other soldiers. I f Sasha asked him to fetch him the moon, he would do it. 

He’d probably help her eat it, too. 

* * *

His entire body was sore. Every inch of muscle, bone, and skin felt like it had been stretched and constricted over long periods of time. It had been two days since they left the castle, and his thighs still ached from all the horseback riding. 

Groaning,  Eren lifted himself off his cot, wincing when his back, his chest—basically  everything —protested. Most of Monday had been spent in riding and they didn’t arrive to the Field Outpost until late afternoon. They had only taken a small fifteen minute lunch before riding off again, and while  Moblit had insisted they take more breaks in between (because despite how strong the horses are, they didn’t want to kill them)  Hanji insisted on keeping a fast pace to their destination. 

An entire day of riding and carrying equipment,  Eren had been more than happy to collapse in his bed—but was unable to sleep because  Hanji had burst through his tent flap and ordered him to begin their first experiment. Tired, sore, and starving (they hadn’t eaten much either),  Eren had half a mind to tell  Hanji to stick it where the sun didn’t shine. Inste ad, he rose and did as she said.

That first experiment,  Eren had thought a bit strange… 

“So… I’m just… sitting here?” He asked slowly, looking at the small rug like spot they had placed on the ground before him.  Hanji nodded, eyes flashing as she looked over the area with a keen gaze. Around them, the soldiers had placed several mirrors to reflect the last of the sunlight over to the rug. The mirrors were large and wiggled and wobbled with every burst of wind around them, but held firm to their restraints, which consisted of several metal and wood looking scaffoldings. 

“Quickly now, while we’ve got sunlight.”  Hanji ordered and  Eren shrugged before sitting himself in the center of the little rug whilst getting used to all the light bouncing against his eyes. And he waited… and waited…

“Are you tired,  Eren ?”  Hanji asked him from behind some of the mirrors,  Eren stifled a yawn as he watched her pace this way and that. 

“Well, yeah…” He drawled, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His thighs had been aching more while he sat with his legs crossed, but  Hanji had already scolded him for trying to stretch the complaining muscles. After three hours of waiting and sitting in the slowly fading cascade of sunlight,  Eren could feel his back begin to complain in equal strength along with his legs. 

He endured all manner of questions, “How are you tired? Is it a sleepy tired or an exhausted tired?”— the hell was the difference anyway??— “Are you cold? Are you warm? You’re experiencing tingling? Where? No, you can’t stretch your legs. I don’t care if they’re falling asleep. Hungry,  Eren ?” 

It wasn’t until the sun had fully set that night that  Hanji had finally allowed him to move. It was painful. His legs shook, his back creaked and his eyes felt like they had been replaced by lead. What was worse, by the time he managed to get to the food—it had already been mostly eaten by everyone else. He ate his meager dinner and went to sleep, fighting off irritation and the desire to sleep in until his body fully recuperated. 

The next morning,  Hanji had woken him up at the ungodly hours of the wee pre-dawn moments. She asked him how he slept— like shit —if he wanted to go back to sleep— yes —if he could please stand up, touch his toes, allow her to take a blood sample, test his cognitive responses or whatever before letting him collapse back into bed. 

When he woke, he had missed breakfast and was only allowed to eat some bread and dried fruit slices. Disappointed,  Eren tried to keep from snapping when  Moblit had chuckled and patted him on the head—he almost did, but bit down on his roll and scarf down the dried pears. During the day,  Hanji put him through a harsh obstacle course that involved the use of his 3DMG. It would have been a slice of cake, if not for the fact he was starving, and still sore from the experiment of the evening prior. All along,  Hanji kept egging him on, shouting at him strange questions and telling him to move faster. 

He managed to finish the obstacle courses, landing roughly on his knees and gasping while she jotted down the results. For all he knew, she was just coming up with new ways to torture him…

The remainder of the day, he had been asked to perform a ten minute handstand, do fifteen sets of twenty squats—which  killed , by the way—and jump off some trees and catch the branches with his gear as close to the ground as he could get. 

None of these experiments demanded him to attempt to transform into a titan and while his body ached and creaked, none of the injuries or pains caused him any triggers into the titan form. He honestly had no idea what  Hanji was getting from these strange endeavors, but he had found that if he asked, she would go on and on about theories he was already aware of (he was nearly late for supper that night for that). 

Now…three days into their trip and two days into their weird experimentations,  Eren wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and fall asleep inside it. At this point, sleeping had become a nuisance, with how angrily his body protested and shouted at him to quit moving. 

It was ridiculous, but duty called. 

And that duty was finding the nearest bush he could relieve himself on. 

It was still dark when he pulled himself from his cot. His breaths burst behind his lips in strained gasps as his body screamed in protest, but the arrogant prods of his bladder made him move onward, forcing his body to obey and walk out his small tent. The air was strangely still out here, and as he glanced up at the sky, he allowed himself a moment to inhale the freshness of the air around him. 

The Field Outpost was a station that the Corp used as message deliveries, so it meant the building where soldiers checked and received information was rather small and accommodated three soldiers in total. This lack of space forced the rest of the squad to pitch tents outside of it—but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.  Moblit had ran a hand over his scalp, ruffling the long locks of brown while saying this was a good way to enjoy the outdoors. 

We already live outdoors,  Moblit .  Eren had replied tersely, not appreciating the teasing undertones the rest of the soldiers took with him. It was obvious, even though he was older now and even taller, the other men saw him as young. Which was, in all fairness, extremely ridiculous because he could transform into a gigantic 17-meter beast and they couldn’t. 

Well… he did… once… 

Shaking his thoughts away from the real reason he knew they traveled out here,  Eren grabbed the lantern that sat by his tent flap and flicked it on. The small light of the ember was startling and he had to turn the dial a couple of times to lessen its force. Before long, he was trudging through the trees and looking over the vast plains and even the touch of  the  mountains that cradled the horizon. In all honesty, it was a beautiful sight. 

The stars were out. All millions of them, and they gave the earth around them a gentle light that was almost soothing. If he wasn’t so sore and exhausted,  Eren would probably enjoy it more, wish that Armin and  Mikasa were at his side to enjoy this rare moment of stillness. 

When he found a bush, he was already breathing in harder pants, fighting off groans of agony when his muscles insisted he return to bed. Relieving himself eased some of the tension at least, and as he looked around the darkened foliage and the grips of night time, he felt his mind ease back into earlier memories… and inevitably, to the pair of blue eyes that haunted him when he had no choice. 

“Hold your stance here,” She had spoken, just inches away from his ear. He had shivered, nerves tingling with new excitement as she directed his limbs higher. 

“I don’t see why I have to do this,” He grumbled, trying to forget the way her fingers left flushed spots in his skin. He wished she didn’t move them away so quickly, so apathetically. 

“You’re an adequate fighter,  Eren … but in the end, adequacy is only a nice word for mediocrity. Your titan form is still controlled by your emotions. Control your body, control your emotions, you can control it.” Her eyes blinked back up to him, bearing sharp holes into his stare that had once made his skin crawl. Now it only filled him with a rolling excitement. Made him want to start attacking quickly just so he could have an excuse to touch her. When her eyes flicked back down to his mouth, he almost lunged for her waist—had almost wanted to cause another ‘accident’ between them and remind himself how hers tasted. She would throw him on his spine, without a doubt… but maybe she would grant him a second or more of contact… 

“Come,” She ordered after she moved away, her hands raising in controlled defen se, her legs shifting in the distinctive stance of her fighting style.  Eren lunged, his fists tightening and his eyes honing directly over her frame… but despite how every punch and kick hurt and made him grunt… he could feel a twinge of something that he hadn’t felt before… 

Air slipped through his teeth in a short sigh, and his mind returned to where his stood—more reluctantly since his legs were now quaking gently. Shaking himself,  Eren quickly secured his pants around his waist, when he saw something from the corner of his eyes. 

He glanced up, and let out a shout of surprise before falling backwards and landing on his rump. 

“ Hanji —What the HELL?!” He exclaimed after the woman took several steps away from the bush he had used as a toilet, grinning to herself in that similar manic way that made his anxiety shoot up several levels. 

“Not bad,  Eren ,” She whistled, hands on her hips as she picked up the lantern he had left on the ground. The fire had let out a bright burst, casting eerie shadows to dance over her face—making her grin look ever more frightening. “You feel relieved yet?”  A violent heat rose from his neck to tinge his ears a bright red, he scrambled back up to his feet—muscles screaming in response—before facing her with an attempted scowl.  Did she… she didn’t see… He thought almost desperately, but  Hanji’s smirk widened. 

“I may be wrong but you look like you’ve grown a couple inches,  Eren .” She hummed, cheeks burning in a lewd expression.  Eren let out a sharp squeak before throwing his hands over his crotch, feeling hugely embarrassed. His reaction was enough to make her head fall back as she let out a bark of laughter. “Oh don’t worry,  Eren ! It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. Who do you think changed your catheter while you were comatose?” 

The revelation made the dread in his stomach force his skin to feel hyper attentive. “B-but,  Moblit said he…” 

Hanji grinned again as she walked closer to him, “ Moblit may have helped at times… but I had been charged as your primary caretaker. Besides, there’s very little I haven’t seen of you in the name of science, so don’t feel too violated.”  Eren groaned, head dropping to his chest but instantly regretted it. His neck muscles strained and ached and the action made the rest of his back and spine protest. He lifted a sore arm to rub at the affected area, wincing. 

“Still sore, are we?”  Hanji asked.  Eren nodded, pursing his lips. 

“Hasn’t really gotten better…” He admitted, but couldn’t look into her face directly. The thought of her undressing him while he was asleep made him feel uncomfortable—suddenly he felt worried that she may have done… more than just change the tube that had gone through and toward his bladder… With  Hanji , who could possibly tell? Her previous mischievous attitude paled as she stepped close enough to press a hand over his shoulder, making him drop his hand while her fingers dipped and prodded at the curves of his flesh. He almost flinched but after a moment, relented to her touches. It felt rather nice. 

“How about the areas where we drew blood, are they healed?”  Eren lifted his sleeve, scowling at the faint mark of a scab over the crook of his elbow. 

“No…” He sighed, “Still bruised.” 

Hanji seemed to take this with some slight disappointment , but she gave him a warm nod. “Don’t worry,  Eren . We’ll be done soon.”  They began to walk back to the camp, their footsteps the only sound save the soft hums of crickets and insects alike. 

“Uh,  Hanji …”  Eren wondered aloud. “What were you doing out there…?” 

“Same thing you were,  Eren ,” She chuckled, turning the intensity of his lamp a little brighter to ease their way through the trees. “Only, I had to take a lot more effort. I’ve always wished female genitalia could be as easily accessible as the male’s. You guys are lucky.” 

Eren felt his cheeks flush again, wondering how she could speak so bluntly about body parts—not that it embarrassed him a lot. He recalled his father speaking in similar ways as he grew up… but  Hanji … she didn’t approach it with the same medicinal perspective  Grisha had. Even so,  Eren couldn’t help but follow in dialogue, feeling too tired to hold back or filter his words. 

“I wouldn’t say that…”  Eren grunted with a soft shrug. “It’d be a lot more convenient being able to walk around without worrying about which leg it’s going to stick to…” 

Hanji laughed again and  Eren smiled. “Say,  Hanji …”  Eren muttered after they began to approach his tent. “…When are you going to have me transform into a Titan? I mean, isn’t that the whole reason we came out here for?”

“I never said we’d be asking you to transform,  Eren ,” Hanji replied. The young titan shifter scowled. 

“Well… then what’s the point of being out here?” 

“Well I never said we wouldn’t be asking you to transform either.” She replied, grinning. 

Eren narrowed his eyes at her, feeling exasperated and even irritated. “Okay, so are we or aren’t we?”  Hanji chortled softly again as they finally reached the front of his tent. 

“Don’t worry about it,  Eren . We’ll get to it in time. I’m gathering data right now, so please just bear with me while you can.” She said again, and with a tender caress over his head (she had to reach up to do that and the sudden realization of their height difference seemed to hit him square in the gut) she turned off his lantern and walked off. “Try to sleep, okay?” 

“W-wait,” He called, “Don’t you need the light to get back?” 

“I trust my feet enough to take me back where I need to go,” She called over her shoulder with a wave and headed disappeared in the darkness.  Eren waited until her footsteps on the grass faded and he let out a soft sigh before looking back up at the stars, vaguely wondering how his friends were doing and hoping they were at least getting a good night’s sleep.    



	9. The Vow She Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Vows made in storm are forgotten in calm”  
> -Thomas Fuller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s inspired tracks are: Blue Bicycle, Morning, by Hauschka, Coto, by Kashiwa Daisuke, Ljosio(This one is perfect for the wedding scene) by Olafur Arnalds, Advance by Hiroyuki Sawano, Danse Macabre by Zbigniew Preisner

The sound of footsteps echoed and bounced off stone to tease his ears, recoiling from the walls and mimicking the rhythmic beats of the seconds that passed. Connie could feel his palms work up a sweat already and not for the first time did he rub them against his pants, trying in vain to stay calm.

She was late.

She was nearly twenty minutes late.

Each minute that passed only added to the pressure on his nerves, made him want to escape the confines of the room they had agreed to meet during protocolled meetings. Part of him wanted to just take off, forget the fact that they were meeting together and return to entertaining himself with something else instead of waiting for her to show up.

Glancing up at the window, he could see how the sunlight had trailed a good three inches from its last spot against the ground and table. The room felt stuffy the more he paced within its walls and the thought of letting some wind in tempted him to do something more than amble around like a nervous idiot.

Over and over he chanted to himself to calm down, to take it easy, but each repetition of the thought made him want to escape even more.

Several seconds later and Connie had had enough and strode up to the window. It was old, and it looked like it hadn’t been opened in more than a century. While the glass and wood looked like they’ve been scrubbed down to the very molecules, age had proven a worthy adversary for Levi’s skilled hands and soap. The edges of the glass were tinted yellow and the wood let off a smell that made Connie cringe. Firmly gripping to the handle, Connie gave a few short shoves, yanking at the metal and pushing at the window with his arm… then shoulder… then fully bracing against it with his body when it refused to give.

His irritation mounted with every passing moment that the window refused to give. He was about to give up when the door suddenly swung open, nearly exactly at the same time the bothersome window finally shoved outwards with a violent creak. Connie only had enough time to let out a startled and confused yelp before he found himself hanging by his waist outside the gaping hole in the wall.

He let out a shout, scrambling his arms to grab at the edge of the window pane, his eyes wildly catching the sight of the fall that waited for him, the way the ground looked so strangely far away.

A sudden hand gripped to the back of his pants before he was firmly yanked back into the room. Connie let out another cry and that was joined by another when the force knocked him and the intruder down on his back.

Hands found their way to grip the back of his head mid-fall, cradling his cranium from hitting the stone roughly. When he looked up, he was met with Li’s wide green gaze. He let out a soft grunt, realizing that she was practically laying on top of him.

“You’re late.” He snapped, narrowing his eyes and trying to hold back the heat that was now staining his cheeks and the stutter his heart was now emitting. At this, Li’s eyes fell flat before rolling, a long strand of auburn hair fell from over her ear to tickle his cheek, feather soft.

“You’re welcome,” She returned dryly, not bothering in being gentle as she retracted her hands from under his head. His head hit the stone then, making him wince.

“Ow,” He griped and pushed himself up just as she was pulling away. Scowling, he rubbed at the back of his head, pointedly returning her casual gaze and trying to keep his fingers from shaking. How could she just stand there as if nothing has happened? Because sure enough, she hardly blinked up at him. Just stared. “You know,” He began, “if we’re going to be meeting like this, might as well be on time.”

Li gave him a noncommittal shrug, “I was held back.”

“By what?” The question came out easily. Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have dared ask—but it seemed that the past few times they had met knocked down those walls fairly easily… or rather… those past few times they ended up ferociously making out. Which still only counted two times… sometimes when they’d be sitting at the table and he dared a glance to her side, he would find himself under an intense stare. He didn’t know whether she was imagining ripping his lips off with her own or wanting to kill him…

Maybe both.

The tension didn’t ease at all since the stag night, and the topic made his chest churn with irritation, desire, and a sudden curiosity that hadn’t been noticed before.

“My sister,” Li admitted before sliding down on a chair, Connie blinked in surprise. “She’s been on my case since she figured out who you were. I had to plan out and elaborate scheme to distract her and cover my scent.”

“How’d you do that?”

“I found Fitz and ordered him to help her pick up a mess in the gardens. I’m sure they’re probably talking right now…” She trailed off, a wistful expression on her face that appeared strangely… relieved. Connie tried not to gawk, and found himself sitting down on the other chair. A brisk breeze filtered through the open window, making him shiver. A strange silence filled between them… Well, it felt strange… more because… it honestly felt the closest he could compare it to the word ‘comfortable.’

“Your sister…” He said after clearing his throat, and feeling strangely timid in breaking the silence. “You mentioned she was… in love with Fitz?”

Li lifted a hand to brush a trembling lock of auburn from her cheek, raising a brow, “Yeah. You know him right?”

“I think so…” He admitted, trying to remember whether or not that had been the guy that saved Sasha from getting killed just two days ago. His musings stopped short when he realized that there were only two days until the wedding… it’s not like it took him by surprise. These past couple of days everyone had been bustling in an out and fixing the dining hall to make it more presentable—even arguments between the MP’s and their men had died down due to the added pressure and hype. In these past few days, it was as if everyone had forgotten what had transpired the night of the Poltrabend, rushing this way and that and beaming when Armin and Krista appeared down the hallways hand in hand. Their affection for each other seemed to have taken a contagious edge—even Sasha and Jean were gazing into each other’s eyes with syrupy smiles and timid touches that made them both flush.

It was rather sickening… but, it was also pretty nice from the way they had all been before. All brooding faces and scowls…

“I’ve been trying to set him with my sister for a while now,” Li sighed before crossing a leg over the other, leaning an elbow against the table. “She’s been ogling him since she met him nearly three years ago. He’s a dimwit, though. Can’t see sense if someone slapped him with it. Not so different from you, actually.”

Connie rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “You’re too kind.”

Li flashed him a sudden smirk, his stomach wobbled. “Only difference from him and you is that I haven’t kissed him yet.”

And there it was. Connie felt his cheeks darken once more, still not used to her blunt way of approaching topics and he struggled to hold back from doing something stupid. It didn’t help that after she had said that her eyes seemed to have sharpened their focus over him, cutting at his resolution to imitate stone. The more he met her gaze, the more he found his stomach spin with heat. He had to clear his throat again, hating how much her focus thrilled him—hating how she knew how much power she had over him and used it without respite.

“Yet?” He muttered, taking the topic in another direction. Li shrugged again.

“He’s been rather smitten by me for a while now. A reason why it’s been so hard to get him to focus more on Riza. I don’t know though… maybe after we fail this botched up engagement I could give him a chance and see if he’s worth the fuss Riza keeps pouring over him.”

This was one of those times that Connie wasn’t sure she was joking or not. She spoke so casually, as if it were so easy to admit to stealing her sister’s romantic affection at the expense of failure. Li’s eyes brightened back with yet another epiphany, “Hey, she said you were cute. Maybe you can find a better match with her. We can marry and have equal affairs with the two of them. Give the old marriage values a good turn on their heads, don’t you think?”

“Hilarious,” He replied, feeling his stomach sour as she continued to speak. Just when he finished speaking did he catch something in her eyes and the sourness faded to a faint comprehension. _Wait…_ “You’re angry.” He observed.

Li’s fingers gave a twitch, but her face did not fall from the light poker it maintained. Yet, Connie had been watching and where her face maintained its composure, her eyes had hardened against his. _There it is._ Of course, she’s angry. She must be. Meaning… this situation with her sister was a lot more personal than she made it out to be. “I’m always angry,” She replied with yet another shrug, but her eyes took on yet another sharp edge that challenged him to back off.

He didn’t bite.

“I thought you couldn’t stand your sister.” He pointed out, recalling a time when she had ranted about how she wished she had been an only child. But he didn’t know the things he knew about Li then, only half-listening as she went on and on about Riza’s thorn-like effects.

“I don’t.” But her eyes told him another story.

“I don’t think so,” Connie said, finding himself pushing himself forward to lean his elbows on his knees. “I think you hate the fact that your sister has had such poor luck with this guy. You care more than you let on.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you what you thought,” She shot back and he could practically taste the venom in her throat, the strange way she recoiled when he approached something she wanted to keep out of reach.

“Then why even bring it up?” he asked, edging himself until he was at the end of his seat and several inches closer to her. Li’s green eyes narrowed, pink lips pursing almost unnoticeably. “If your sister means that much to you, you should do more than shove her away, Li. Unless…” his mind was racing before he recalled something she had said before smiling and leaning away.

“What…?” her voice was strangely tight.

Connie let out a soft breath that sounded like a chuckle, “Nothing, it’s just… you have a funny way of showing your affection is all.”

“Oh, really?” She asked and the way she said it made his stomach wobble again. Suddenly, Connie knew exactly what she was going to do. She had done it before. It usually came after he had make a discovery about her personality, a curve ball that she threw at him to make him re-think his musings and try to push the favor back into her hands. He knew this because he was still haunted by the effects of said curve ball examples late at night… still waking up to sweat drenched sheets and tight and moistened underwear…

Connie braced himself the instant she was out of her chair and ambling up to him. He swallowed thickly when his eyes caught the way her hips swayed as she stepped toward him—reminding him far too much of the stag night and the sight of seeing the clothes peeling off her skin…

“Hate to break it to you, Connie.” She said, looking down her nose into his eyes, her hand finding its way to brace against his collar and instantly his heartbeat began to gallop into a sprint. “But you should know by now that I’m not affectionate.”

Whether it was to gain an advantage or because his body was feeling a strange surge tingle through his veins, Connie didn’t know, but he said nothing as he felt his hands rise to grip her hips—making her eyes widen just a fraction and her fingers to shudder against his neck.

“What are you doing?” Her voice had lowered into a whisper and a flash of uncertainty played behind her eyes—she had not expected him to react how he was now.

“Nothing,” He replied and could feel somewhat elated when his voice remained steady, as if completely unaffected by her proximity. “But, I could ask you the same thing.”

There was a standstill between them that lasted a long moment. Green eyes narrowed, as if accepting a challenge he hadn’t been aware he had presented when she was suddenly nudging a knee between his legs. The action made the breath catch in his throat and he could only lift his grip on her hips to tug at her waist, Li shivered and she was digging her hands under his jacket, testing him. It only occurred to Connie then that this was a new game… that the challenge was to see who would break first.

The thrill in his blood nearly scalded him from the inside out and he tried to keep his breathing steady when he let his own hands find the belts at her sides before giving them a firm yank. Li let out a tiny hiss through gritted teeth, emerald gaze darkening as she ran her hands down his shoulders to the firmness of his chest, exploring the taut muscle with greedy fingers. Connie had to bite back the moan growing in the back of his throat, knowing that if he did… he would lose. And losing meant her pulling away… meant her grinning and leaving him in the now cold room in his frustration.

No way.

For a moment, his mind blanked out when her fingers found the belt that crossed his chest, thumbs caressing the sensitive peaks beneath his shirt and his hands fell in surprise at the sensation before gripping something firm and soft.

Li let out a gasp and Connie felt it sober his mind when he noticed that his grip had landed on the curve of her rear. He almost pushed away completely if not for the way she suddenly grabbed his jacket and practically threw him out of the chair.

“Oh, that is _it_.” She growled, eyes heavy with something that made his chest dip into his stomach. “I have had it with you challenging me at every toss and turn.”

Connie could feel a touch of outrage at her comment, but was distracted by the color of her freckles deepening in contrast to the flush burning in her cheeks—whether it was angry or otherwise, he could hardly tell. “Get used to it,” He retorted and just like that her eyes were widening again and the next thing he knew their lips were crashing against each other and he forgot if he had been the one to move of if it had been her. All that mattered was feeling her kiss him in ways that made his brain scatter completely.

_Am I dreaming…?_ The thought came and went, flying out the proverbial window when he felt her tug insistently at the belts at his side to bring him closer to her chest. His hand had found a spot beneath the cradle of her jaw, plastering his mouth more firmly against hers and not knowing who was seeking entrance into the other’s mouth. The second their tongues grazed past each other, Li let out a strange whimper. Her hands slid from his waist to wrap around his neck, bringing him further closer against her and nearly making them topple over from the sudden force.

They stumbled, hips hitting the table and forcing them to break away in order to steady themselves from colliding with the ground.

Green met amber as another brisk wind blew into the room, chilling at their skin and quelling some of the raging heat building in their chests. Connie could feel the desire to grab her again, to taste the strange tart and bitter taste that came from her mouth and understand its complexity in every sense possible, but something made him stop and forced him to listen to the way her breathing shook near his.

“What… is this…?” He asked, Li’s eyes crinkled as she frowned, not catching his drift. To emphasize his point, he dipped his chin, lightly nipping at her lips and loving the way her breath caught in a tiny gasp against her throat as he did so.

“I honestly do not care,” She replied, lifting herself on her toes and making him feel the way their chests rubbed together. Even while her voice sounded controlled, there was an edge to it that made him feel oddly wild. It was unbelievably enticing. “But, you piss me the hell off.”

“You’re not exactly a sweetheart yourself,” He grunted, wanting to roll his eyes, but ended up unable to resist kissing her again. It was like tasting something strange yet exquisite, because it felt both forbidden and liberating. When he pulled away, she was smirking into his eyes, and his chest gave an uncertain lurch that both excited him and frightened him.

“I have a thought,” She said before dipping her chin to press her lips against his throat. Connie let out a soft exclamation, his knees wobbling when he felt her tongue lap against his pulse.

“O-o-oh yeah?” He wheezed, voice hitting awkward pitches when she gave his skin a soft nip of teeth. The heat was becoming almost unbearable now.

“We’re basically,” She pulled away before attacking another part of his skin as his hands roamed under her jacket to fall on the swell of her hips. “Stuck in this,” she kissed his jaw, “Ridiculous and inevitable,” she moved up toward his ear, Connie nearly whimpered. “Engagement in which we, at some point, have to do it enough times to finally have children…”

“Uh-huh…” He breathed, pushing at her jaw with his before dipping his chin to find the base of her throat. She let out a soft gasp, fingers digging into his jacket when he found a sweet spot.

“So, the way I see it…” She sighed, wrapping her arms closer around his neck to give him more access to her neck. “…Why not make this otherwise horrible experience… _Ah…_ ” She pulled away and met his clouded gaze with her own dark one. “A little more… enjoyable?”

Connie felt himself pause, then, “What are you implying?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m implying.”

A smirk of his own lifted his lips, nearly scoffing, “Are you implying you want to have sex with me, Hanna Li Dorinski?”

She laughed and the sound made him feel lightheaded, “Getting ahead of yourself, Connie Springer. And no,” her words actually made him feel disappointed. She seemed to catch this before smirking with a victorious glint to her eyes. “I don’t… but… I’m willing to allow you an audition.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means, I don’t want any strings attached,” She rolled her eyes. “The last thing I want is to allow the government any more exclusive rights over me. If I’m obeying orders, I’ll at least follow them in the way I can with what freedom I have left.”

Connie’s eyebrows lifted, surprised and even impressed. He understood exactly what she meant. This whole mandate had forced them to accept the role of giving away their bodies in order to establish Humanity’s freedom…this was Li’s way of getting retribution, her way of dealing with these new shackles that enslaved them to each other. They may be forced to marry… but if they could control the fate of their own hearts, it would be enough to still make them feel like there was some choice involved.

For the first time in a while, Connie found himself agreeing with her.

“No strings attached?” He asked. She nodded, the motion making their noses brush together.

“None.” She confirmed. Connie wrapped the full length of his arms around her waist before hoisting her up on the table, swallowing the gasp she let out when he did so.

“Deal.” He said before sealing his mouth against hers and allowing himself a moment to enjoy the way her fingers reached up to run over his scalp while he drowned in the tart and bitterness that was this taste of freedom.

“Make it worth my while.”

“Just, _shut up_.”

* * *

When Armin woke that Saturday morning, it was to an empty bed and a swollen heart. Blue eyes blinking with startled surprise, he lifted his bed tossed head to look around the expanse of his room, in search of another blonde head that was missing from his side. Curled within his embrace was the soft form of a plush pillow and he had to remind himself why, oh why, was Krista gone from the comforts of bed so early in the morning.

It wasn’t until his eyes landed on the fine looking suit hanging over his closet that he felt his brain return to the present and shoot him full of excited adrenaline. Shoving the treacherous pillow away, and spitting out a few strands of hair that had fallen in his mouth while he slept, Armin pulled himself off his bed. Right on cue, several poundings on his door alerted his wide gaze away from the suit and the promise it held when he slid it on.

“Armin!” He heard Jean’s unmistakable voice over the barrier of wood and metal. “Rise and shine, buddy! Time to get all prepped up for your wedding day!”

Armin hurried over to his door before yanking it open, fast enough to see Jean flinch away, startled, and looking at him with a wide eyed expression.

“It’s my wedding day!” Armin nearly shouted, as if it was the very best day of his life. And it absolutely was.

Jean rolled his eyes, “Good morning to you too, Lance Corporal.”

“It’s finally here, man!” Armin exclaimed, reaching over to yank Jean into his room, but the taller man lifted a hand to stop him.

“Dude,” He scolded, “What did we discuss about manliness?”

The blond soldier nearly threw his arms in the air, “Not this again.”

Jean shook his head, “You’re about to marry one of the Corps’ most beautiful women and you’re acting like the bride herself. I knew that mission where you pretended to be Historia would make you behave like a girl.”

Armin groaned, “Jean.”

Jean fixed him a sturdy glance, “I’m serious. Try again.”

The Lance Corporal relented and shut the door back on the man’s face, as if completely forgetting he was higher in rank to disregard the other man’s orders. Nevertheless, Armin composed himself and donned a mask of calm and so-called ‘aloofness’ that Jean had been careful in teaching him this past week. Slowly, he opened his door and fixed the expectant man a casual look before jerking his chin up.

“Hey, Jean.” He greeted, perfectly calm. “Come on in.”

Jean smiled before nodding sagely, “Now that’s more like it, my friend.” Slapping the groom on the shoulder, the other man walked in the room and waited for Armin to shut the door.

The second the door shut, Jean grabbed Armin by the shoulders before screaming, “You’re getting married, man!!”

“I’m getting married!!” Armin shouted back as the two exclaiming soldiers jumped up and down, laughing and squealing to each other with excitement. For a while they did this, Jean grabbing at one of his pillows before slapping the plush object into Armin’s face.

“Okay, okay,” Jean snapped, feigning gruffness despite the laughter still falling from Armin’s lips. “Calm down. You’re a man. Be a man.”

Lance Corporal Armin nodded with mock-serious, failing in holding back a grin when Jean reached over to shove him to the side. “You think the girls are freaking out right now?” the blond asked, chuckling after Jean pushed off the side of the bed and adjusted his uniform jacket.

“I think they’ve been freaking out,” He replied with a toothy grin. “Come on, future Mr. Reiss, you’ve got a suit to put on.”

“You got it backwards,” Armin laughed and followed them man over to his closet.

“No, I didn’t,” Jean replied just as Armin agreed.

“No, you didn’t.”

They shared another laugh and Armin settled on discarding his clothes while Jean reached over to the suit and began to pass him pieces of clothes. “So,” Jean jumped straight into it. “Most of the Elite Guard have arrived, and even some of the Court’s handlers came in last night. Basically, I’m glad you guys ended up deciding to move the whole thing into the Dining hall—which looks freaking awesome, by the way.”

Armin rolled his eyes, before accepting the shirt Jean was tossing over to him and sliding it over his bare arms, “You mean what you and Historia decided.”

“For you, by proxy,” Jean corrected with a shrug before his face settled into a serious expression. “Wait… did you brush your teeth yet?”

Armin’s arms fell, his face contorting into a wide look of exasperation. Jean gawked at him, “Are you freaking kidding me, Arlert? You’re getting married to the Goddess of the Corp and you didn’t think to brush your freaking mouth? Get out of my face and do it now, man. Nasty—No, no! Don’t go and do it with your dress shirt on! You’ll get paste all over it and we’ll have to find you another one. Take it off!”

“You’re worse than Mikasa,” Armin grumbled, before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it over to Jean before disappearing behind the washroom near his closet.

“Did you remember to bathe last night?” Jean shouted as he looked over the clothes.

“ _Yes!_ ” Armin shouted back, sounding far more exasperated than he had before. Jean let out a short chuckle, shaking his head when Armin returned and having looked as if he had also brushed his hair and washed the rest of his face. “For such talk about being a man, you sure cluck like a mother hen.”

Jean frowned at him, “Shut up and put your clothes on—on second thought, don’t put the suit on yet.”

“—What, why?!”

“You have to eat breakfast and even though you eat far daintier than even Historia, I’m not having any accidents with this suit. She asked me specifically not to allow you to soil your clothes before you get married. Bride’s orders.”

Armin sighed heavily but obeyed, laughing under his breath when Jean addressed to Krista as the Bride. It filled him to the brim with undying joy and warmth, making him feel lighter than air. Sure enough, he had changed into a simple uniform, going so far as slapping Jean away when the older man attempted to put his hair in a different style from his usual half-up. On their way to the dining hall, Armin was pleased to see bright sunlight cascade through the high windows in the hallways, and as they passed he allowed himself a moment to look up and through the windows toward the sky.

Big puffy clouds hugged the spaces of the massive blue canopy, bright and cheerful despite the past few days cast in dark gray and heavy bursts of wind. It seemed like the wind had blown most of the dark away to give them a rare day of sun.

Armin grinned, beaming up at the strips of blue in the air before glancing back down—only his eyes returned just as quickly back out the windows, smile fading lightly when a flash of green grabbed his attention.

_What was…?_

“Hey, Armin, you waiting for the weather to change?” Jean called ahead of him. “Come on, let’s eat before Sasha finds out their serving hash browns!”

Armin nodded vaguely, his blue eyes roaming the sky above for a sign of the source of the strange flashing green. _Are they doing 3DMG drills or something…?_ He thought to himself. After Jean called him back again, Armin pushed the thought aside before jogging up to match the senior cadet’s longer strides. _Probably taking advantage of the nice weather_ , he thought to himself with a shrug. Glad, at least, that more people were enjoying themselves on this day.

The day of his and Historia’s wedding.

* * *

Soft hands pressed down on white fabric, feeling and relishing the feel of lace and silk against dainty fingertips. Blue eyes took in the sight of the figure looking back in the long mirror. Short, yet regal. It was strange, seeing blonde hair that usually rested in a loose ponytail against her back, tied back into intricate curls and braids against her scalp. Even after the swift hour of hair preparation, her scalp still tingled with the feel of fingers running and tugging at her hair.

It was mid-morning, and Krista was gazing at the image of a woman dressed in white, watching her fidget with the hem of her sash and feeling the way the material fell down to the ground in a short train that ended a foot or so behind her. This woman didn’t harbor the same haunted expression she had seen years ago, didn’t have the same pain or emptiness that had dominated most of her life and experienced the loss of friends… and a loving partner.

Blue eyes fell over the curve of soft hands, hands that had ripped into Titan flesh with swords and felt the sting of hot blood—it was always a source of surprise to her when people commented on the softness of her palms, as if they could ignore the calluses that had grown over the pads of her fingers.

Standing in front of her, Krista did not see the image of a woman who had been raised as a reject to a noble family, the empty soul of a girl who had been beaten and rejected by a mother that soon died before her very eyes. She didn’t even see the soldier that girl had grown up to be, the hardness that had once tightened her blue eyes into sharp ice.

She saw a woman, soft and gentle and full of love—but saw the resolution that made her weight of her hands steady and move in slow touches against the beautiful dress. Not the noblewoman her blood had been bastardized with, but the woman formed by choices and ultimately, the love of her friends.

Krista took a moment and smiled, watching how the smile looked genuine, even felt genuine against her mouth. Sure enough she could see shuffling in the background and saw Mikasa appear behind her, smiling her usual small smile.

“You look lovely, Historia,” Mikasa muttered quietly. Krista beamed up at her through the reflection of the glass, cheeks flushing prettily beneath her blue eyes.

“Armin is one lucky guy,” Sasha crowed from behind them, sitting out of reach from the mirror’s grip. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Krista felt her chest swell with warmth. She finally turned away from the mirror to face her comrades fully, gazing at them with a watery gaze that had filled before she could least expect it.

“I’m getting married,” She whispered, half sobbing with happiness and Mikasa’s gaze seemed to burn with full affection. Behind her, Sasha grinned back, sitting carefully against a plush chair and popping cherries from a large bowl into her mouth.

“You certainly are,” Mikasa nodded, lifting her hands to cradle her bare elbows. The soft lilac dress hugged her frame tightly, exposing muscle and toned curves a little too well, much to the girl’s obvious discomfort. Krista didn’t seem to mind, appreciating the way it made the Oriental look, as it cast her in a refreshing light that made her seem more feminine than a uniform could. “I wish you wouldn’t insist on me wearing this, though,” Mikasa sighed.

Krista giggled, wiping at stray tears before pressing soft fingers against Mikasa’s forearm. “You look beautiful, Mikasa. I’m sure the Captain will love it.”

“If he doesn’t ravish you the second he sees you, I’m calling gay.” Mikasa rolled her eyes at Sasha before extending her arm to let Krista slide her hand to link their palms together. It was a strange contact, as neither woman had ever displayed that kind of physical affection, but there was a warmth in their chests as they smiled at one another, brought together in this rare moment of happiness and camaraderie.

“He better not,” the raven haired woman replied, “He’s still in trouble.”

Sasha let out a bright gasp, “Seriously? It’s been practically a whole week! You’ve got serious will power woman. I don’t think I could deal one night without Jean.”

“That’s because you’re depraved,” Mikasa retorted and easily dodged the cherry Sasha tossed with a mock-gasp of shock. “And anyway, aren’t you done eating already? You’ve been eating nonstop since breakfast.”

The auburn haired woman flashed them a lewd grin, reclining on the chair and adjusting her matching lilac dress to allow her to extend her legs up on the table in front of her. The whole surface was covered in sweets and bottles of wine for the Bride’s disposal—and Sasha was milking every bit of it. “What can I say? A girl needs to recuperate the calories burned in the throes of passion.”

Krista colored brightly, exclaiming, “Sasha!” The two other women laughed at varying intensities, Mikasa giving soft chuckles to Sasha’s boisterous guffaws.

“You’ll know what I mean, Historia,” Sasha chuckled, wiggling an eyebrow. “Just wait until tonight and you’ll know exactly what I mean.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Krista sighed but her lips remained in their bright smiling position, and her cheeks faded in rosy hue as she turned back to look at her reflection in the mirror. “But, I guess you’re not wrong, either. It’s kind of weird, though… Armin and I have been waiting for this night since before he proposed…”

Mikasa’s smile softened as she walked behind the white-dressed woman to grab the bouquet of edelweiss, lilacs and lilies, fingers pushing baby’s breath out of the way of the ribbon that held the bouquet together. “The first time is the most special,” Mikasa said before turning and placing the arrangement within Krista’s waiting hands. “My first time with Levi was the first time I spent with anyone, and it was beautiful as it was sad.”

“Sad?” Krista asked, peering up curiously at the taller woman. Mikasa nodded.

“We were both convinced that it would be the only night we would be able to have together,” She said softly, lifting a tentative hand to brush the lock of blonde hair that fell between Krista’s eyes. “But, when we discovered we were matched together… the night we spent after was far more enthusiastic. You’re lucky, Historia. You and Armin were far stronger in your love for each other than either I or Levi could do or understand.”

“That’s not true…” the young blond denied, frowning lightly. “I mean… I don’t think so.”

Mikasa blinked with surprise, but said nothing while Krista ducked her chin to look back at the bouquet, feeling sheepish. “Even though you two hurt each other… you were able to forgive each other, and that’s a strength not everyone has. Even after so much time was spent in pride… your love was strong enough to overcome that. Armin and I… we admire you both so much.”

“Historia…” Mikasa breathed, deeply moved by the shorter woman’s words.

“Not just them, though,” Sasha piped up, lifting herself off the chair slowly, grimacing with light pain before moving closer to the other two girls. Placing a hand over Mikasa’s shoulder, the auburn haired woman beamed up at her, “Jean and I also admire you both, too. You don’t realize this, Mikasa, but you and the Captain have done so much more for the rest of us than you know.”

Mikasa pursed her lips before smiling, not sure how to take such kind words. “Thank you… both of you.”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted the moment between the three women. Exchanging curious looks, Sasha let out a loud, “Who is it?!”

“Li,” they heard and Krista’s hands tightened over her bouquet. “…And Riza!” they heard another voice pipe up.

Mikasa glanced over at Krista, noting the girl’s discomfort. “I can turn them away, if you’d like.”

The petite woman gave her a grateful smile, but shook her head, “It’s alright. It’s my wedding day and I get the feeling Li may want to talk about what happened last week.”

“If you’re sure,” Mikasa nodded, and the two watched as Sasha walked over to the door, brushing them off when Mikasa attempted to stop her. The door swung open to reveal the short and auburn haired senior cadet, at her side stood a taller woman who bore striking similarities in appearances.

“Good morning!” the taller one exclaimed, Riza, if Krista wasn’t mistaken. Before they could register, Riza’s green eyes brightened when they landed on Krista, gasping loudly and moving quickly past Sasha and Mikasa. “Oh my goodness!” She exclaimed, lifting her hands to clasp around Krista’s grip on the bouquet, smiling brightly. “You must be Krista Lenz—no wait… Historia Reiss! I’m so happy to meet you, and can I just say how beautiful you look? I’ve always wanted to attend a wedding, so please allow me to attend!”

“Riza,” Li’s voice came from behind, reprimanding and sounding somewhat embarrassed. “What did we just finish talking about?”

“It’s alright,” Krista chuckled, but glanced over at the other women with an uneasy smile, no doubt not having expected to be approached so warmly by a stranger. “I’d be happy if you attended…Riza, is it?”

“Riza Alexandra Dorinski,” the woman nodded, grinning with all her teeth and gripping her hands a little tighter. “Please call me Riza, I look forward to being your friend!” Krista could only smile back before Riza was pulled away, wincing when Li had grabbed hold of her ponytail and give it a quick yank.

“Please forgive my little sister,” Li said, still gripping to Riza’s hair and fixing the taller Dorinski a flat glare. “She has little understanding of boundaries.”

“Must run in the family,” Sasha mused with a smirk. At this Li let go of her sister’s hair, cheeks burning and darkening her freckles. The unusual expression made Krista’s initial discomfort waver, knowing full well that Sasha’s quip had been concerning the stag night.

“About that…” Li breathed before dropping her hands to hide behind her back, a simple ‘at ease’ stance that would have made her look respectful and attentive, if not for the refusal to meet Krista’s blue gaze. “I… want to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Krista parroted, feeling surprised at seeing the usually terse woman appear so...vulnerable. Well, vulnerable may not be the right word. People are vulnerable they appear like they’ve been ripped open. Li looked more like she had forced some of her layers apart…but not all. Li nodded slowly before she fixed them all a piercing stare.

“I don’t know you aside from the fact that you are friends of Connie, and aside from other reputations I have heard and been aware of…I wasn’t aware of your relationships. I don’t have any explanation that can appease you. I was angry, I made a brash decision at the expense of your feelings just to give the guys a good time…” She trailed off before fixing Krista a firm gaze that made the blonde woman jump slightly, “I understand now, that I shouldn’t allow my emotions to get the better of me. Please forgive me.”

Krista blinked several times, astonished. After a short moment, the bride looked away, contemplating for a short while before smiling and gave Li a nod. “I accept your apology,” She said and Li let out a short sigh. “I’m glad that Connie’s matched to a girl like you.”

Li frowned, “Oh really?”

The blonde giggled, “You seem like you’re quite a match for him. Connie’s been my friend for a long time now… he believed in me and another dear love of mine when there were few who did so and I’ve hardly ever seen him look so… put out of his comfort zone.”

“Sounds like a bad thing,” Riza chortled. Krista shook her head, blonde bangs bouncing against her cheeks and strands of her braided and tied back hair fell. It didn’t look bad at all.

“Oh no, if Connie needs anything,” Krista grinned. “It’s someone who gets him out of that comfort zone. He’s so bored all the time.”

Li smiled, and rolled her eyes, “Well, I think it’s safe to say I put everyone out of their comfort zone. If it helps, Armin never did anything. He just froze and sat there. I think he may have passed out at some point.” To their relief and mild surprised, Krista let out a bright laugh that the other girls followed with giggles and chuckles of their own.

“Well, that’s good to hear…” The blonde woman giggled, “I think.”

“Oh wow,” Riza suddenly exclaimed, green eyes widening. “You guys have chocolate?”

Sasha seemed to have caught the contagion of excitement, moving quickly toward a box of the sweets and lifting them up toward the other woman, “Help yourself, Riza! We’ve even got our own bottle of wine. Lucky for us, Mikasa doesn’t like it so more for us.” She finished with a wink.

“I don’t dislike white wine,” Mikasa retorted, crossing her arms and shooting a frown at the bottles of wine and the glasses that had been filled but remained unfinished. “This type just tastes wrong, that’s all.”

“But, we already tasted them,” Krista sighed, “They all taste fine.”

“Let me have a taste!” Riza exclaimed and grabbed a glass off the table and chugged its contents down, much to Li’s grunt of disapproval. “I’ve never tried white wine before, it tastes nice! Kind of tart, can’t imagine why you hate it,” the girl smiled over to Mikasa. The raven haired woman shrugged dismissively. Riza took another sip of the wine before walking over to Sasha, nudging the girl playfully before sitting down on a chair.

“This is so nice,” Riza whistled, looking over the nice sitting room and over the spread of candies and drinks, “Can’t wait ‘til I get married.”

If Krista hadn’t still been paying attention to the shortest sister, she probably would have missed it. The instant Riza had said that, Li’s eyes tightened, as if the comment had wounded her, but made no other motion aside from shifting her weight casually.

“I can’t either,” Sasha agreed and hesitated in popping a truffle in her mouth, as if just remembering something important. A small smile lit her lips, “And you know, I’m going to beat you there, Dorinski.”

Riza cocked an eyebrow while the other women gave her similarly confused looks. Sasha tossed the chocolate into her mouth, blushing, “I wanted to wait until after the wedding to tell you guys the news,” She trailed off, taking a moment to swallow back the last of the sweet. Krista’s eyes slowly widened, her mind rapidly connecting the dots, the breath left her chest.

Mikasa and Li exchanged curious glances before they were met with Sasha’s bright smile of enthusiasm, “Jean proposed a few nights ago.”

“What?!” Krista exclaimed, nearly dropping her bouquet as her hands jumped up to her lips. Mikasa’s eyes widened and watched as Krista let out a bright squeal and laugh before launching into Sasha’s arms, bouncing with happiness. “Sasha, oh my goodness, how wonderful!”

“Congratulations!” Mikasa chuckled after Krista pulled away, giving the tall and blushing girl a warm hug.

“Well, it’s about damn time,” Li crowed, shaking her head with a smile of her own. “Didn’t think Kirschstein had it in him.”

As if on cue, another knock struck the door, pausing the ecstatic squeals from Sasha and Krista’s direction. Instead of waiting for an invitation, the door slid open and Jean’s head peeked in, looking partially alarmed. “Speak of the devil,” Li hummed.

“Is everything okay? I heard screaming.” He said as he stepped into the room and deciding everyone was decent. He wasn’t wearing the usual uniform, instead his body was dressed in a black suit that appeared too well fitted—hugging his chest and waist in a way that instantly caught the women’s attention. Sasha blushed, smiling stupidly when she looked him over. He didn’t seem to notice, eyes landing on the person closest to the door—which ended up being Li—and narrowed. Nose wrinkling, he lifted a finger at her, asking gruffly, “Oi, what are you doing here?”

“Telling your girlfriend how much you loved me taking my clothes off,” Li replied with a smirk, not at all affronted by his rude greeting. “Thanks for the extra euros, by the way. They really kept my hip warm.” The unexpected comment made Jean sputter, his cheeks flushing bright red and looking absolutely shocked.

“I didn’t—!” He began, looking away in time to meet Sasha’s gaze. The stupid smile was gone now, lips curling downward at Li’s words. Sasha gave Jean a violent stare, pulling away from Krista’s embrace to burn accusatory daggers against her boyfriend’s expression.

“What’s this about you putting money under her underwear, Jean?”

“Oho, Jean’s in trouble. Is the wedding off then?” Riza asked through a mouthful of chocolate, giggling behind a hand. Jean shot Riza another glare.

“Oh, shut up, Riza. You’re as bad as your sister.” He snapped before looking back at Sasha with a sheepish smile.

“No, she’s not.” Li retorted but didn’t fight back the grin that followed when Sasha took several steps toward Jean. He looked absolutely ready to faint. 

“Sasha, before you get mad, I just want to first say, I was really drunk—,”

The red-haired woman flared, “Oh?! Real drunk, were you?!”

“Poor choice of an opening sentence,” Riza sighed, Li and Mikasa nodded in agreement. Before the argument could scale any further, Krista was taking several steps between them, lifting her hands (plus bouquet) in a ceasing supplication, blue eyes in a firm stare.

“None of this! The both of you!” She scolded, “I’ll have no fighting or problems on my wedding day, or so help me I’ll call Captain Levi and have him and Mikasa throw you two in the kitchen dumpster!”

“Sasha would love that!”

“Shut up, Riza!” Everyone sans Mikasa exclaimed. The girl shrugged and returned to stuffing chocolates in her mouth.

“Apologize!” Krista huffed, glaring pointedly at Jean. A silence filled them while Jean scowled, looking like he had been caught lying about something ridiculous but relented after Krista gave him an especially firm frown, when he looked back up, Sasha was pointedly keeping her gaze elsewhere.

“I’m…sorry, Sasha.” Jean sighed, “I’m sorry I stuffed my money down Li’s underwear.”

“I’m not.” Li chuckled but closed her mouth after a pointed look from everyone else. Riza giggled and tossed her sister a chocolate. The girl caught it and popped it in her mouth before doing a zipping motion over her lips with her fingers. Nodding, Krista looked back at Jean.

“That’s not what you should be apologizing about. The whole stag night was a bad idea, Jean. It was insensitive.”

“Holding bachelor party for Armin?” Jean exclaimed, looking exasperated.

“Hiring Li as the stripper for the party,” Mikasa clarified, rolling onyx eyes toward the other women. Li shrugged but said nothing while Sasha and Krista nodded. “Eren _did_ try to tell you it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah but I didn’t hire Li, Eren did that!” Jean said defensively.

“Because _you_ pressured him,” Krista huffed, pressing a slender digit against Jean’s chest. “And besides, how would you feel if you found out Sasha had some guy do to her what Li did to Armin? Exactly. Get it now? You owe me and Sasha an apology.”

At this point, Jean let out a sharp huff of air, blushing under all their attention. “Fine, fine…” He grumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking thoroughly reprimanded. “I’m sorry I pressured Eren into hiring Li as the strip—whoa hold on, you didn’t have to say yes!” He exploded, whirling on Li.

Again, the girl shrugged, “And I already apologized for that. Nice try. Now finish apologizing.”

Chest deflating, Jean gave a huge sway of his arms, exasperated but let his hands fall to his hips. From the corner of her eyes, Krista caught Sasha taking a peek back over to Jean’s clothes, a tinge of a blush staining her cheeks. “Alright, I’m sorry for getting a stripper for Armin’s bachelor party—especially after he had told us not to… and even though it was hilarious to see Armin freeze up like he did…” He added with a chuckle, but trailed off when the women (save Li and Riza, they smirked) didn’t seem to find the humor in his statement. He sighed again, “I’m sorry, Krista… Sasha. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Sasha grumbled but pushed past Krista to grab onto his tie before pulling him down for a kiss. “Unless it’s from you, then it better not.”

The rest of Jean’s face burned a bright red, but returned his girlfriend’s kiss with a hidden grin. When they pulled away, Jean looked over to the other women with a pleasant look, “Well, it’s nice to see you girls all dressed up. Historia, you look especially lovely.”

“Flattery really is his best weapon,” Mikasa said wryly to the other redheaded women. Li and Riza shared a chuckle at that, much to Jean’s chagrin.

“But, speaking of Eren,” He spoke again, lacing his fingers through Sasha’s when she pulled against his chest and kissed his jaw. “Mikasa, you wouldn’t know if he’s back yet, would you?”

At the mention of her brother, Mikasa let out a soft sigh of disappointment, “I don’t. When the left on Monday, all I got from him was a note he had given Keiji to pass to me. It only said that they’d be back in time for the wedding.”

“He does know the wedding’s at noon, right?” He asked, frowning again. Krista’s eyebrows linked together over her nose, looking away thoughtfully. “He’s only got three hours until then.”

Mikasa pursed her lips, straightening from her place by one of the chairs to move toward them, “I’ll go find Levi, maybe he knows about them arriving.”

“I don’t.” Levi’s voice appeared from behind the open door, appearing from behind Jean. He was also dressed in a black suit that seemed to fit too well, dark hair combed back save a couple of strands that fell over his forehead despite the fingers that flicked them back. The second Jean and Sasha stepped away to give him better walking space, the women in the room all let out tiny gasps, drinking in the image of Captain Levi so impeccably dressed. Mikasa’s cheeks burned a bright scarlet, admiring her fiancé and frozen mid-stride. In a flash, Levi’s attention landed over Mikasa and he too froze, jaw going slack as he looked over her bare shoulders and the color of lilac draped around her form in a dress that hugged her curves and flared below her hips.

It was as if someone had switched the room for a furnace, and soon everyone could feel themselves bake before the power of Levi and Mikasa’s smoldering stares into each other’s eyes. A small smirk lit over the corner of Levi’s lips, (Riza gave yet another little gasp and began to fan herself) and he seemed to really enjoy the attention from Mikasa because he was slowly placing his hands in his pockets.

“You look nice,” He said, jerking his chin. Mikasa’s shoulders hitched just a fraction before she was taking several steps closer to him, her fingers reaching for his lapels like magnets attracted together. Similarly, Levi’s hands were lifting to meet the swell of her hips, eyes never leaving hers and smirk staying pleasantly tugged over his mouth.

“You look delectable,” Mikasa muttered, and it would’ve been quiet if not for the fact that everyone was watching them with the same fascination one would have for an open flame.

“Enough for you to stop being mad at me?” He challenged, thumbs brushing her sides. Even Li looked like she was about to be consumed by the tension between them.

“Almost,” Mikasa said and kissed him on the nose. Levi rolled his eyes and reached over to kiss her lips before Krista cleared her throat, raising a brow and a smile at the two of them.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” The blonde said, crossing her arms and letting her bouquet rest on the crook of her elbow. “But, we were wondering about Eren?”

Levi’s face molded back into its usual flat expression of simple appraisal, yet his hands only further tugged Mikasa further against him—as if it was the most natural thing to do. “All I am aware of is that Hanji’s team is set to arrive today. When exactly, that I don’t know. For all we know they’re on their way.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jean said, keeping his gaze away from Levi and Mikasa, so settled on meeting Sasha’s gaze, “Armin’s been really worried since breakfast. Hardly touched his food when we found out Eren hadn’t gotten back yet. Ticks me off, Eren’s his best man and the guy can’t even be on time for that.”

“I’m sure he’s trying his best to get here on time,” Mikasa quipped, bristling slightly at the criticism towards her brother. “The wedding is not for another three hours, that’s plenty of time.”

“Like I said,” Jean said, shaking his head. “Let’s hope so.”

Sensing another argument rising from catching the hardened look Mikasa was now giving Jean, Krista let out a deep sigh, letting her hands fall and pressed her bouquet into Sasha’s hands. Sasha frowned, looking at Krista with concern, “You alright, Historia?”

“I’m just tired…” the girl sighed, letting her hands fall back over her lacy hem and feigning exhaustion. “It’s been a really busy morning, can I get a little while to rest?”

“Anything for the bride,” Jean piped up beneath similar agreements from everyone else in the room. Almost immediately, everyone else in the room began to shuffle out.

Levi patted Krista’s head softly before giving her a soft look, “Rest well,” He said before walking out, Mikasa giving her an equally soft gaze and even an affectionate touch to her shoulder. Krista smiled warmly at them, waving as Jean ushered Sasha out and they both gave her happy smiles.

“If you need anything,” Li’s voice startled her from behind. Turning, Krista saw the soldier appear strangely sheepish, “You can give me a call. I don’t think Jean will be available after Sasha saw him in that suit.”

Krista’s cheeks burned pink again, catching Li’s implication with a giggle, “I don’t think so, either. Thank you.” Li gave her a short nod before brushing past her, Riza following in tow with several chocolates stuffed in her mouth and pockets. “Actually,” Krista called and the two women paused to look at her, “If it’s not too much to ask… I would appreciate it if you joined my bridesmaids…”

Green eyes widened, Riza looking extremely excited whilst Li appeared like she’d been punched in the gut, “Oh, uh,” the shorter woman stuttered, “Thanks, but I’m not really cut out for dresses or that sort of thin—,”

“Nonsense!” Riza exclaimed through a chocolaty grin, chewing quickly and swallowing, the taller Dorinski looked over the moon. “Li would _love_ to be one of your bridesmaids! Wouldn’t you, Hanna?”

Li paled, giving Krista a distressed looking glance, “I don’t think I—I mean, it’s a nice thought, but—,”

Hands clamping on her sister’s shoulders, Riza gave Krista a joyful smile, “I’ll have her get ready in no time. I don’t know if I have a dress that’s the same shade as Mikasa’s or Sasha’s though, that won’t be a problem will it?”

Krista grinned, “Actually, we got an extra dress in that closet there. I had it ordered just in case Sasha ended up ruining hers.” Riza let out a bright whoop of success, pushing past Li’s frozen figure to search out the extra dress.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Li tried again, looking more and more out of comfort when Riza pulled out the lilac dress on a hanger. “Really, I’m no good for these things. I’ll probably screw something up or whatever.”

“Oh shut up, Hanna Li,” Riza snapped, looking so similar to her sister that it made Krista nearly do a double take. Instantly, the expression fell and she gave Krista a brilliant grin, “She’ll be ready in an hour, so you rest your pretty blonde head while I work my magic.”

“Thank you,” Krista chuckled, watching Riza flounce toward the door, hooking her elbow through her sister’s arm and tugging Li’s still protesting body out the door.

“Come along, sister dearest! Time to make you pretty!” With a final glance back, Li heaved a heavy sigh, before being thoroughly dragged out of the room. When the door shut, Krista let out another happy chuckle and looked toward the back door of the sitting room.

“That out of the way,” She spoke to herself, patting herself on the back for buying herself foolproof time out of everyone’s attention. With a few steps, she moved over toward the couch and leaned over to pull back the sheer fabric that covered the windows, smiling when she noticed the sky was practically empty of all clouds, leaving nothing but bright blue skies and sun drenched foliage.

Carefully, lifting at her dress, Krista moved over to the door and pushed it open. The door was yanked out as a sharp gust of wind blew into the room, making her yelp with surprise. Sunny it was, but it was still rather windy. Krista was glad, yet again, at Jean’s thinking. It wouldn’t do them any good if the sun was out but the wind was ready to toss the rest of everyone off the ground—well… there were a few choice people Krista wouldn’t mind being blown away… that’s for sure.

Moving out wasn’t so bad, the wind rose and fell. Sometimes hard, sometimes dwindling into a brisk breeze. Shivering against the cold air, Krista pushed the door closed and moved through the grass. Dress whipping around her legs, the young bride moved through the grounds slowly, but surely.

Sure enough, she found an area where the hallways opened up to let in air and easy access to the fields. Careful not to be spotted, she breathed a sigh of relief that ended in her teeth clacking together when she found little to no one around—not doubt following inspections and helping out with the last touches the dining hall needed before it was ready. Commander Erwin had ensured that all other activities would be suspended to make way for the wedding, making it so that for the rest of the day everyone could enjoy the festivities and the happy occasion.

Moving away from the grass and nearly slipping on rocks (she never wished for her standardized boots more than ever. The soft white flats were lovely but did nothing to protect her from the cold of the wind or whipping leaves. She nearly twisted her ankle over a particularly uneven bit of ground and her legs were already aching where she had broken them) Krista was happy her feet were finally over even stone and quietly moved through the hallways.

It was warmer inside and she had to take special care not to be spotted as there were still the occasional soldiers moving about. It took her longer than usual, but as she got closer to her destination, Krista could feel her determination lift the closer she got. A couple of turns here, a couple of careful ducks out of sight there, and the perfume of flowers soon reached her nose as her reward.

Smiling to herself, she peered over the side of the hallway and deeming it clear, she quickly stepped through the open threshold of the gardens. Her eyes were quickly graced with the sight of various colors and sunlight, bright and soft all at once she took a step in and inhaled deeply. The smell was strong but pleasant and just a bit of a breeze entered the area from above. When she glanced up, she saw one of the sky windows had been opened a bit to let in some air, making the blistering room feel cooler but still warm under the bright sunlight.

She didn’t need to search far. When she stepped past a few large pots of Calla Lilies she was greeted with the sight of Armin sitting on the bench by the spruce sapling, eyes closed as he drank in the sunlight. The sight made her heart give a little flutter, his hair had been carefully combed into its usual half-up style, body covered in a rich black suit that shimmered at the hems. In his hands he spun a long stalk of edelweiss mindlessly. While his stance on the bench gave him an air of relaxation, she caught the slight wrinkle of his brows over the bridge of his nose. She knew in a heartbeat that he was probably still worried over Eren’s absence.

Smiling to herself, she drew near, “Armin.” She called out softly.

“Historia?” Armin’s eyes opened, surprised and when he saw her, his eyes quickly squeezed shut. “Wha—what are you doing here? I can’t see you, yet!” He exclaimed, quickly lifting a hand to cover his eyes and turn his body away from her. “It’s bad luck, don’t you know?”

Krista giggled, but allowed him to fuss, “It’s okay, you didn’t really see me.” Gently, she took a seat beside him and angled her body to face away from his. Leaning back so their spines touched, she felt him stiffen, “See? It’s okay.”

Steadily, Armin relaxed. Straightening to better support her, he drew out a soft sigh, and she could tell he was trying not to look back at her. “What are you doing here?” He asked her after a short and comfortable silence.

“Jean told me you were worried. I can’t have that on my wedding day, you know.” She replied, lacing her fingers over her knees as she lifted her dress to hug her legs, drawing her knees up to her chest on the bench. Armin chuckled, she could feel it on her back and it made her smile.

“How’d you know I would be here?”

“I’m about to become your wife,” she replied easily. “I think a bride should know a few good things about her future husband, don’t you think?”

Armin laughed at this, “Fair enough.”

Another pleasant silence filled the space between them, leaving them to enjoy the smells and breeze that fell around them softly. After some time, Krista felt Armin lean his head back, skull meeting hers gently as he looked above them, “I’m not mad.”

“I know.”

“It’s just,” He began, sounding frustrated. “He’s always been there… I know I shouldn’t doubt him, but I can’t help but worry that… I don’t know… he forgot or something.”

“Do you think he’d forget?”

“No.”

“Then I think you have nothing to worry about,” She said, shaking her head to gently nuzzle him. A strand of gold fell past her ear and she stopped the motion, wincing when she realized she may have undone one of her braids. The thought was brushed away as Armin gave another slow exhale.

“He’ll be here, Armin.” Krista soothed, lifting her hand to reach behind her and catching his suit sleeve. His hand quickly fell for their fingers to interlink, her thumb finding its usual spot above his. “If it makes you feel any better… we can hold back the wedding until he arrives.”

Armin let out a short breath that resembled something like a laugh. He shook his head, “You’re unbelievably amazing. You know that?” Krista nudged her shoulder back against his, grinning. “Thanks, but… I can’t make you wait any more. This is your big day, and I won’t get in the way of that.”

“Armin…” Krista sighed before shifting and grabbing at his chin. He turned at her insistence, but his eyes remained firmly closed. She fought back the urge to roll her eyes, deciding to just lean in and kiss him, instead. Their lips met in a pleasant touch, gentle and sweet. When she pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, but his eyes stayed close. “This is your big day, too. We’ve waited a few weeks to be married… what’s an hour or two more?”

He tilted his cheek, letting her fingers caress his skin with soft touches while a smile bloomed over his lips. “An hour sounds infinite.”

“It’s your choice,” She whispered, drawing him close to press their foreheads together, one of his hands found her waist. “If you want, I can make it so we wait a little longer for Eren.”

“Are you sure that’s okay…?” His voice was small, as if he didn’t like the idea of asking her to do something that felt like such a big deal. Krista kissed him again, letting her fingers dig into his hair as she cradled him close.

“It’s more than okay.” She said against his lips and he let out a relieved sigh through his nose. After another moment, she pulled away to sit against his back, their fingers meeting again urgently with the necessity to touch. Another long silence passed between them comfortably when Armin gave her shoulder a soft nudge.

“So,” He asked, sounding a lot less stressed as he had before. “Lady Reiss, how does it feel to be marrying a lowly commoner such as myself?”

Krista let out a soft grunt, feeling the title dip a sour taste behind her teeth. “A lot better than it would be marrying some pompous noble.”

“You sure?” Armin asked after a time. “Sounds like it would be nice. Marrying a guy with a lot of money, a big mansion with a lot of servants and all the food you can eat… better than dealing with an army pension and dorms, yeah?”

“Gosh, you’ve convinced me,” Krista cooed dramatically, “I’m going to run off now and find me the richest nobleman in the King’s court and marry him instead. Or her. Definitely her.”

“Oi,” Armin grunted, but she could hear the smile in his voice and wasn’t too bothered by his nudge against her back. Krista laughed, knowing he was probably rolling his eyes.

“I’m happy, Armin.” She admitted, resting her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh, “That’s something that no other person, no matter how rich, can give me. At least this way… I’m marrying for love, and that’s worth the twin sized bed and a life of rickety floors.”

“It’s a full size now. Lance Corporal’s get full sized beds.”

Krista let her eyes fall close, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight, “That’s enough space for an extra little person.” Armin’s hold on her fingers tightened, the sensation sparking a brilliant heat through her chest that made her feel delightfully giddy,

“I’ll send a request to the Commander to see if I can get us a King sized bed then.”

“Don’t you dare,” she huffed but the huff ended with a giggle that easily morphed into a contagious laugh. Giggles subsiding, another thought hit her, making the laughs fade. “…Historia Arlert…” she spoke. Armin stiffened.

“It sounds nice…” He said.

“Nicer than Krista Lenz… better than Historia Reiss… both those names belong to someone who isn’t me…” She said, lifting a hand to catch a floating petal that had been lifted from its flower after another cool breeze. “But… Historia Arlert… that’s a name I can really fit into.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Armin said, but his voice sounded tight—no doubt getting overemotional again—before clearing his throat. “Because I don’t know about you, but Armin Reiss and Armin Lenz sound completely ridiculous.”

The laugh that burst from her lips was heartfelt and beautiful, making the warmth that surrounded them feel light and perfect. Krista knew that she wanted nothing more than to sit by this man’s side for the rest of her life—because for the second time in her life… she felt truly loved.

And for the first time, she felt like it would actually last.

* * *

His mouth still tasted like blood. Iron and rust, sharp and bitter. Blinking blearily, Eren tried to focus on the feel of his reigns against his fingers, but every step the horse took felt like a jarring stab against his hands, making the bandages around them feel more constricting than soothing.

Glancing at his hands, he couldn’t help but scowl when he saw the faded pink on white—noting how his hands were still bleeding in crescents and would probably be needing a change soon. Ahead of him, Hanji rode in silence, her green cloak flapping behind her as they traveled at an easy trot. It had gotten windier the closer they got to the castle, forcing strange gales to whip at them in odd angles.

The brisk wind felt nice against his wounds, at least, giving them a numbing touch that the swelling and heat had stabbed and ached. Still, there were times that the jostling made the bandages feel like they were rubbing against his skin, irritating the bites and make him feel nauseous.

But, it was not the pain of his bandaged hands that caused the hole in his chest. Rather… it was what they meant, that made his heart feel like it had been sucked into some kind of vacuum and mashed to a pulp.

He had been staring at his objective for a while, remembering the way it felt to be in control of his Titan form, the emotions that allowed the power to flow through his veins like a fierce explosion of heat and static. Sure enough, he gave a nod and waited until everyone was out of the way before he took in a sharp inhale and bit down at the space beneath his thumb. He felt pain, then felt skin break before his mouth was flooded with his blood. Heat rose in his body and Eren let out a shout of pain, knees caving as he fell forward.

Blood dripped down his chin and arm, hot and oozing. For a moment, he thought it had been enough but the peak of heat had been too soft. Not enough… Eren closed his eyes, and bit down harder, skin screaming where his teeth sunk and tried not to scream again. The heat rose again, but perished in a single moment.

Eren unhinged his jaw, wincing, and spat out blood. The red substance struck the ground with a splatter, staining green stalks with its violent shade and dripping into the soil. Minutes later, he heard footsteps and when he glanced up, Hanji was looking at him with a strange expression. Neither disappointed or excited… just… focused.

“What did you feel?” She asked, behind her approached Moblit with a notepad. Eren told her, explaining every sensation in as much detail as he could, before cradling his injured hand against his shirt—the material staining with red and pain as he tried to staunch much of the pour that was starting to make his hand feel too warm… and too cold all at once.

After he had finished dictating and Moblit had stopped scribbling, Hanji remained standing there, peering down at his hand with a pursed look. They waited, watching her as her eyes stared off into the distance before she glanced back up at the young man kneeling in front of her.

“Do you think you can try again?” She asked.

Eren let out a soft groan, feeling his nerves fray. These past few days have been nightmarish. He had had poor sleep, his body was still protesting much of the exercises she had him do and perform… he tried very hard to keep from exploding on her, tried to keep his anger in check—because if he did transform now, the last thing he could afford was killing Hanji just because of a few days of rotten sleep and exhaustion—no matter how tempting it sounded.

“Gimme… a second.” He grunted, trying to sound normal but ended up spitting the words through his teeth. _God… it hurt like hell._ He had nearly forgotten what it was like to feel a pain like this and for so long. “Agh!!” He snarled, snapping a feral gaze back up to the bespectacled woman. “Why am I not healing?!”

Hanji said nothing, her eyes crinkling behind her glasses. After a moment, Eren had looked away, panting ( _when did he start breathing hard?_ ) and wanting nothing more than to hit something now. “Okay, you know what, why don’t you please just tell me what the hell I’m torturing myself here for, yeah? Can you please give me that, Hanji?” He growled.

Moblit scowled but kept his lips shut. The woman’s lips tightened and she let out a sigh, “I’m not sure if we should, Eren.”

“Well, why the hell not?!” He honestly hated how his voice sounded so weak, so whiny. If Annie were here now— _No. None of that. No more thinking of Annie._

Hanji opened her mouth to say something before pausing, she seemed to be thinking at a speed even he couldn’t comprehend. Finally, she bent down to crouch before him, looking into his eyes with a tired expression, “A lot is happening right now, Eren. I need you to trust me. Okay? I can’t tell you everything right now, but I can tell you that if my theory is correct… that means that you’re the last that carries the titan gene.”

“Didn’t we already check that theory out?” Eren asked, grimacing when he felt the blood seep against his shirt and drip down his abdomen.

“…We’ve had some more information come to light that challenged that theory…” Hanji muttered softly, lifting a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose. The young titan shifter frowned for a moment at her words. Then, his eyes widened, heart jumping to his throat.

“Wait… what do you mean?”

She met his gaze after adjusting her glasses, speaking bluntly, “You may not be the last Titan as we had thought.”

Another jostle and Eren let out a shuddered breath through his teeth, reminding himself to breathe and to keep from using his hands any more than he needed to. As soon as Hanji had told him that, Eren had returned to their experiment with new zeal, wanting nothing more than to feel like her words could be right.

He needed them to be right.

Because if he could transform, it meant that he wasn’t the last one.

It meant that there was still something he could do.

It meant that Annie could still be alive.

But each bite, each new wound that he self-administered brought him nothing. Each painful rip of teeth on skin only brought heat, but no static. Even though his mind envisioned his objective clearly, his endgame perfectly, his desire fiercely…all he felt was heat pooling against his mouth, staining him with red failure and a sharp taste of desperation that clung to his tongue even after he had swashed his mouth endlessly with water.

That had been two days ago. And still… his body refused to heal as fast as it had once had. As if it had been truly exhausted from every inch that granted him the power that had saved his family, his friends. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the memory of Annie’s words, the power never came.

In the end, they forced him to stop after he started seeing spots and the blood loss had left him feeling faint and hysterical. The night that had followed was drenched with tear-stained dreams and the image of Annie falling away from him no matter how hard he ran through the nightmares and reached for her. Now, more than ever, Eren felt truly desolate.

They woke at dawn on Friday, conducting a final experiment to test if his healing had truly slowed. Eren didn’t find it in himself to care and just followed through the motions, drained and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget. To his relief, Hanji had let him return to his cot to rest, recognizing that it was about time he had some time to himself. Sleep deprived and stressed to the point of apathy, the second his head hit the pillow, Eren allowed himself to cry and fade to a sleep where he dreamt of Annie sitting at his side and holding his hand while they watched blue flowers sway in a summer breeze.

At around noon, Hanji had woken him up to help him pack. “We’re heading back home, Eren.” She had said. She changed his bandages and checked other vitals, using a small compact to reflect light into his pupils. “No changes?” She inquired. Eren only shook his head, hating speech and hating the pain that made him feel like such a pathetic shell.

He watched as officers packed his things for him (his wounds hadn’t improved), heaving his trunk of clothes and things into the back of the travel cart. It was midafternoon by the time they were heading off. Their pace was slower than when they had left the castle, no doubt made easier for him. Breakfast had come and gone, lunch and dinner passing in the same fashion. By the time they had managed to come close to the main road, Eren nearly fell off his horse—completely exhausted.

“Eren!” Hanji had exclaimed when he fell to his knees by his horse—they had been taking a break and his hands were bleeding through his bandages. A series of footsteps rushed toward him, but none neared him—fearing a sudden transformation even though the sun had already set on the horizon. He doubted he’d be able to transform then, even if he could do so.

“How does it hurt, Eren?” Hanji asked, her voice closer than everyone else.

“Like hell…” He grunted, wiping sweat off his forehead with his upper arm and grimacing when his hands pulsed painfully.

“Moblit, pitch tents, we’ll make camp here.”

“Wha—no!” Eren shouted, looking up to see Hanji’s startled face. “I can keep going, Hanji. I promise.”

“Eren, you’re completely exhausted,” She pointed out, shaking her head. “I know you want to be on time for Armin’s wedding, but it’s not until tomorrow and we’ve only got a few hours of travel distance. We rest now, and wake up early. You need to sleep.”

He didn’t protest much after that, not like he could anyway. After Hanji had deemed it safe, a pair of soldiers had approached and carefully lifted him, mindful of his hands. When their tents were pitched and his cot ready, Eren only had to wait for Hanji to change his bandages, nearly falling asleep as she hummed softly to herself.

“What’s that song…?” He murmured, blinking through sleep-heavy eyelids. In the dim light of his tent, he saw her smile—almost ruefully.

“It’s a lullaby,” She replied, writing down some data on a notebook after she looked over his wounds. Eren nodded softly, feeling himself drift off as she finished wrapping the last of the wrappings.

“Reminds me… of my mom.” He admitted, and he would’ve asked why she stiffened, why she had suddenly looked up at him with an expression of such broken affection and tender sadness. Instead, she slowly pushed him against his covers and brushed the hair from his forehead. He felt something feathery and soft press against his scalp, but was too tired to tell what it was.

“Goodnight, Eren…” Hanji’s voice was the last thing he had heard before he drifted.

The following morning, his hands felt slightly better and his body didn’t protest as loudly when he stood to get ready. The sun was already in the sky to the Far East, casting their path with bright light and warmth that was only quelled as the wind picked up.

Breakfast was bread and dried fruit, and by the time they hit the road the sun had pushed its way closer to the roof of the sky. It was at this point that Eren could feel his stomach begin to tighten with anxious anticipation. The wind had picked up, slapping against them before pushing behind them, making cloaks and fabric flap loudly at their skin.

It was almost impossible to be heard over the wind but Eren had to know, “Hanji!” He shouted. He had to shout nearly three more times until the woman ahead of him turned around, auburn hair whipping around her face when her hood fell back. “How much longer until we get back?”

“At this pace?” She called back, biting her lip. “Probably not until this afternoon!”

Eren let out a cry of shock before spurring his horse to trot beside Hanji’s. “That’s too late, Hanji!”

The woman waved a hand, flippant, “Why ever so? It’ll give you plenty of time for you to get ready and be at the wedding!”

Eren shook his head, “Hanji, what are you talking about? The wedding’s at noon!”

She scowled, “No, can’t be! I distinctly remember being told it would be at sunset!”

“They changed that,” Eren sighed, exasperated. “Armin and Historia decided to do it at noon. They told me about it last week after the poltrabend!”

There was a moment of stunned silence from Hanji, before she gave him a sheepish smile, “Uhm…” She laughed, “Oops?”

“HANJI!” he wanted to strangle her, but Hanji only laughed instead.

“Not to worry, we’ll pick up the pace! Are you sure you can, though?  Your hands are still wounded.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Eren growled, “I can get them wrapped up when we get there.”

Hanji shrugged, “Alright. We’re picking up the pace!!”

He didn’t wait for the rest of the company to start, Eren was already kicking at his horse, gritting his teeth when the animal burst into a powerful gallop. He heard Hanji shout at him but he didn’t bother looking back and soon enough, he could hear the thunder of hooves striking the ground behind him. His hands and legs were howling at him, begging him to be gentler. He set his jaw, keeping his teeth tight and baring as much pain as he could, hoping against time that they would make it.

_Just wait a little longer, Armin._ He thought as he flicked his reigns and suppressed a snarl of agony. _I’m almost there, buddy._

* * *

The taste of chocolate didn’t feel so nice when it was hammered by nervousness. Armin chewed on the sweet Jean had tossed to him mindlessly, glancing out the window every so often and hoping to see a sign of a caravan approach the walls of their castle. In the bright of the day, Armin saw nothing but a long and peaceful landscape, and a glance at the dining hall doors made him let out a thin snort of exasperation.

Footsteps approached and when Armin turned he saw Jean, scowling. “Anything?” The Lance Corporal asked, wiping the remains of chocolate that stuck to his sweating fingertips on a napkin his friend provided. Jean shook his head before sighing deeply.

“It’s nearly one in the afternoon,” Jean said, “People are starting to worry what’s the hold up. I just spoke to Krista and the girl is nearly drunk from drinking so much white wine. Mikasa and Sasha had to hide the bottles to keep her from overdrinking.”

Armin let out a low growl, yanking a hand over his hair and tossing another look out the window. “Come on, Eren, where are you?” He muttered, blue eyes scanning the horizon with a frown.

“Armin…” Jean spoke, “I think we’ve waited long enough.”

“No.” Armin grunted.

“But—,”

“I said, no, Jean. I’m not about to get married with my best friend missing. Something must have gone wrong, otherwise he’d be here.”

Jean let out a slow sigh, rubbing a hand to the back of his head as he tried to think of something else to say. “I know that Eren being here means a lot, Arm…” He hesitated, waiting for the blond man to protest. When he didn’t, he proceeded, “But, you have to start thinking about Historia. I know she agreed to wait a little longer… but the MP’s are starting to get suspicious and the men from the High Court are starting to ask questions. The last thing we need is them trying to start some kind of ridiculous investigation and questioning the validity of your marriage vows. Things are bad enough already…”

He trailed off, watching Armin’s shoulders slump as he spoke and feeling some hope that the lance corporal would listen to reason. Armin slowly turned, giving Jean a disappointed look.

“Tell Historia to give me another fifteen minutes.” He stated. “If Eren’s still not here by then… we move on with the wedding.”

Jean gave him a nod, lifting a hand to his shoulder and giving him a firm squeeze, “Don’t worry.” Jean said with a light smile, “Better late than never, yeah?”

Armin returned the smile with another nod, “Yeah…”

But fifteen minutes later, there was still no sign of Eren or the company, and twenty minutes later, Armin could hear the soft music of the instrument—they had called a piano—play a soft and happy melody that echoed through the hall. It was time.

Nerves shot through his stomach as he began to walk toward the entrance where he would meet his bride to walk down the aisle, and while his disappointment for Eren’s absence brought shards of sadness to cling to his chest, they were not so biting when he remembered who exactly he was marrying today. A short moment later, Captain Levi appeared around a corner, hair mussed rather than combed and a strange look of contentment glistening behind his usually stoic eyes. He was busy adjusting his tell-tale cravat around his neck as he stepped close, blinking curiously when Armin offered him a nerve-wrecked smile.

“You ready?” Levi asked, and Armin gave him a series of rapid nods that soon morphed into head shakes.

“I, uh… I’m not sure.” Armin chuckled breathily, feeling faint as he rambled. “What if I trip? Or worse, make her trip? God, what if we both trip and make everyone else trip? Eren still isn’t here—dammit he’d probably be able to make sure I don’t trip.”

“Oi, Armin,” Levi called, lifting two hands to press against the panicking soldier, gazing gun-metal blue eyes into Armin’s frantic azure. “Take a deep breath.”

The blond nodded and swallowed a large gulp of air—“Slower,”—and proceeded to exhale through his lips. Fingers still shaking, he met his superior’s gaze. “Good,” Levi said, “Now, don’t worry. Take slow steps, hold on to her arm carefully and focus on the reason why she makes you happy.”

“But, Eren isn’t—,”

“Forget about Eren, right now,” Levi cut him off, frowning. “He’s not the one you’re marrying, alright? If he doesn’t make it to the ceremony, then I’ll personally head out to drag him here for the reception, but you have to stay calm.”

The music that poured through the room and out the doors rose to a crescendo before ending, a series of clapping fell like rain and it made the anticipation inside his chest curl into a spring. Levi gave his shoulders another firm squeeze, “You’re going to do great, Armin.” He added with a soft look of approval, the ghost of a smile lifting his lips. “I’m proud of you. I’m certain that your grandfather and parents would feel the same.”

The words sobered him, made him feel more firmly rooted to the ground, even though he felt surprise fill him. It wasn’t often Levi spoke so candidly about his feelings, and when he did, they usually were harsh words and sharp grunts. This made his chest swell, happy that the man he called his Captain looked at him with respect and just a bit of care. “Thank you, Captain.”

Levi gave him another nod before releasing him, he walked toward the side entrance and with a final glance of support disappeared around the corner. Another tune began to play, announcing the beginning entourage of bridesmaids and groomsmen. Not long after Levi disappeared, Jean came racing down the hall, panting and working on his tie and pushing back a flushed expression. Armin could only lift his hands in a ‘ _Jean, what even, man,’_ gesture.

The tall brunet man threw him a sheepish grin before waving and giving him a thumb’s up. He, too, disappeared down around the corner. Armin cleared his throat, nodding to himself and shaking his arms in a ‘warm-up.’ He bounced on his toes a couple of times and waited for the music to fade.

_Just like we rehearsed it,_ Armin thought. _The rehearsal dinner went fine, and so this will be fine. Relax. You’re getting married._

He inhaled deeply and exhaled again, hoping fiercely that Eren would show up… but the seconds passed and Armin was alone. Soon, the melody Krista had picked for their march began to play and with a square of his shoulders, Armin adjusted his suit and ran a hand through the long tresses of his hair and flicked them over his shoulders.

Several steps close, Armin reached the door before he stepped through the threshold and into the dining hall, where his future wife would be approaching from the opposite side of the room.

_Here goes._

* * *

Wind slapped and struck chocolate brown tresses against cheeks and eyelids, stinging where it struck and making teeth grit harder. Beneath him, the large animal was panting in sharp bursts, the air exploding through nostrils and following the rhythmic strikes of hooves on dirt.  _Steady… steady…_ He thought, trying not to bite on his lips as the horse surged forward.

Thunder followed at his heels, making the desperation to arrive at the castle in time for his best friend’s wedding feel like a weight in the back of his chest. Legs aching, spine absorbing the sprinting of the animal below, Eren tried to focus on the sound, on the sting of his hands and the sounds of the caravan hurrying behind him.

They had been riding hard for nearly three full hours now and they were still several miles away from reaching the castle. The sun was now high on its zenith and slinking steadily past the highest point, a white disk of brilliance in the sky.

He could feel the skin of his cheeks flush and burn with the ever present glare of sunlight above him, but Eren dared not find a reason to stop now. Armin needed him, and he would be damned if he would allow himself to fail his friend now, of all times.

A series of rapid hoofs striking earth approached him and soon he was greeted by Hanji’s presence at his side, “Eren!” he shot her a look from the corner of his eye. “Are you sure you don’t want to rest?”

“I can rest later!” He shot back, and whipped the reins again. His bite wounds shrieked but it was a noise he easily shoved to the side, focusing solely on riding.

“Alright, but slow down a bit,” Hanji called, “This next bit of terrain is pretty uneven, the last thing we need is for your horse to break an ankle!”

Eren nearly ignored her, wanting nothing more than just ignore her and move on. “Eren!!” She shouted, and he let out another snarl.

“Fine!” He relented and began to tug at the reigns. The horse gave a grunt in response, huffing while it slowed its pace. His stomach began to lurch, and the protests of his bodies increased in discomfort—filling him to the brim with a strange sensation that made his vision tunnel.

Shaking his head, Eren forced himself to push away the strange sensation. Inhaling through his nose, he tried to take in the whipping scents of the plains and trees around them, the cold against his cheeks and the heat of the sunlight over his scalp—but the sensation persisted. _Is this because I’m exhausted…?_ He thought vaguely, feeling a shudder run through his spine to pool at his stomach. A bitter taste rose from his stomach to his tongue, Eren swallowed it back.

_No, not yet. Not until I get there._ He thought viciously and squeezed his hands over the leather thongs in his grip. The pain was horrid but it cleared his mind from the weird feeling, but the attempt to quell it failed as it returned full force.

“Eren, are you alright?” Hanji’s voice cut through the wind, worried and anxious. He didn’t realize he had doubled over, nearly pressing his forehead against his horse’s neck.

“Fine, fine!” He tried to shout, but it came out as a wheeze, tunnel vision getting worse.

After a few moments, the rush of hooves and thunder against the ground began to slow behind him and he felt a hand reach over to grab at his arm, tugging the reigns of his animal. Eren tried to shove the hands off, wanting to keep moving but felt his efforts fall to the spots covering his vision.

The horse let out a fierce grunt, whining at the sudden tug and began to slow down, fighting at the reigns to ease the pain under its tongue. Sandalwood and lemongrass overwhelmed his nose for half a second when he felt the press of arms around his. The scent surprised him and he looked up to meet Hanji’s determined face.

Several moments later the galloping faded to a bouncing trot. Eren let out a soft groan, his skin tingling with the lack of wind pressing against his cheeks and feeling sweat accumulate on his neck. His hands were shaking violently and his legs were numb.

“Hanji… we can’t stop…” He panted. _Why is it so hard to breathe?_

“Eren, I can’t risk you passing out mid-gallop. We’re taking a short rest.” She spoke and the trotting slowed down to a stop. The strange sensation increased, making his head spin. “Can you get down?”

“Y-yeah…” He heaved, gripping on to his saddle, he bit back a shout of pain as he tried to swing his leg over to meet his other leg. He had overshot the toss and ended up stumbling off his saddle and collapsing on his side.

“Eren!!” Hanji exclaimed.

A sharp heat began in his stomach, churning and rolling like a boil that began to spread everywhere, dulling his senses and making him feel like he was falling. Falling… falling…

“Ha…Hanj…” He gasped, eyes wide but not seeing, not feeling anything aside from the burning in his blood, spreading everywhere until it found his hands.

The tingling increased, and the burning rose and rose through every muscle strand, filling him with a strange resilience and clarity he hadn’t felt in a long time…

A very long time…

* * *

The first thing he saw… was a goddess bathed in white and sunlight. Armin’s eyes widened, mouth falling as he saw her step toward him. Through the sheer fabric of her veil he could see the blush on her cheeks, the grin on her lips as she approached him—looking amused by his stunned expression. The music rose softly, and the sound of a fiddle joined a harmonious melody to the piano’s light touches and Armin could feel his eyes fill with tears. She gave him a short nod of her chin, as if beckoning him.

Zaps of surprise filled his legs, making him start forward with a few awkward steps that mingled like a sprint and a jog and a reverent march all at once. Krista let out a soft noise the reached his ears and his cheeks burned when he realized she was holding back from laughing. A large smile found home in his heart and lips, pushing them up to show her his excitement.

Slowly they inched closer and closer and the soft scent of lilacs teased his nose. He realized then, that under her veil, was a garland of flowers resting over the crown of her golden hair. His fingers itched, wanting nothing more than to lift the fabric to see her fully, but he knew that was not until they reached the altar.

With a love filled heart, Armin extended an elbow for her to grasp, and felt happiness burn through him when her hand found a place within the crook of his arm.

“I’m sorry about Eren,” She whispered to him. Armin’s smile wavered for a moment before he shook his head lightly.

“It’s alright,” He replied. “Better later than never.”

Krista beamed up at him and slowly they turned and began to walk down the aisle. Their footsteps were muffled by a long carpet of white that spread between the rows of seats. The music and their breathing were the only sounds that surrounded them, heartbeats matching rhythm with every step. Around them, petals of lilacs and daisies littered the ground, and they met the gaze of soldiers and staff alike, smiling widely when they all watched with grins and even watery smiles.

“Hard to believe they’re all war-hardened veterans.” Armin mumbled. Krista’s hold on his hand gave a soft squeeze.

“Almost all of them.” She replied.

Armin fought back the urge to laugh, and they fell quiet when another fiddle joined the music, higher notes caressing the lower ones and the soft press of piano keys.

Their eyes lifted from the people around them, witnessing their happiness, to land on their friends, waiting by the gazebo. Armin took a moment to admire the fixed structure, and noted that they had wrapped ribbon in strategic places where paint and wood had been unable to improve. It was a brilliant touch and when he glanced back over to Jean, who stood between Levi and Connie (the latter kept fidgeting with his tie uncomfortably) the man looked absolutely proud.

Armin almost gawked when he saw tears glistening in Jean’s eyes. When he glanced back to the women, he was pleased to see Mikasa was already in tears, gentle rivers falling down her cheeks as she grinned at her friend. Armin felt the connection surge another round of emotion through his chest, making his nose sting and eyes blur. He looked back and saw Sasha sniffling, rubbing a napkin to her nose as she cried openly, smiling funnily at them through happy tears.

At the end, stood Li, and the woman was completely flushed and looking out of her element. Armin could feel amusement rip air through his nose when he saw her fiddling with the dress—it nearly fell past her knees, while the dresses of Mikasa and Sasha just barely brushed the joints. When her green eyes met Armin, she gave him a half smile—looking far more embarrassed than he had ever seen her. He gave her a small wave with his fingers, trying to show that her presence didn’t bother him—and it didn’t… but the memory of her sitting on his lap made his eyes fall away.

Jeez…

At his side, Krista giggled almost inaudibly and they were finally at the altar, where a priest and Commander Erwin stood at its opening. The blond leader gave them both a brilliant smile, nodding to them with a twinkle in his eye that reminded Armin a little bit of his father. The memory nearly made him overflow, but he kept himself in check. Behind him, stood several Military Policemen, looking absolutely bored out of their minds. One of them didn’t even bother to stifle a yawn.

“Who invited them?” Krista grumbled at his side, Armin shared her sentiment.

Armin glanced over to Levi, sending him an exasperated look. The Captain rolled his eyes, but did it so softly it looked like a blink to anyone not paying attention. _Just keep moving._

When they finally reached their spots before the gazebo’s low steps. The priest gave them a warm smile before looking over the quiet congregation, waiting as the music finally ended and when the last of the notes faded against the walls, Armin turned to face his future wife.

“Dearly beloved,” The priest boomed and Krista’s lips tightened when Armin’s hands flinched in her hold. “We are gathered here today, in the festive occasion of a marriage between man and woman. A marriage between two soldiers, ready to serve the mandate and the crown… for the sake of humanity.”

Krista rose an eyebrow, Armin fought back a grin and let his thumbs smooth over her palms.

“It is in this occasion that we stand together in its rarity and its briefness, for our lives are indeed short, but can be spared in happiness and moments of friendship.” The priest paused with a dramatic flair that made Krista’s lips curl behind the fabric and Arming had to fight the urge to follow in her amusement.

“At this time, we will hear the vows, and then the bands shall be given to our couple.” The old man explained before giving Krista a small nod.

Krista cleared her throat, “I, Historia Reiss, formerly known as Krista Lenz, do accept the name of Armin Arlert as my own. I accept him as my husband, protector, lover, and equal, and swear loyalty, fidelity and strength in the moments he needs for my council, support when decisions for our family must be made. I make this vow, to honor and respect him, to love him with every fiber of my being, and to do so… even after my body decays by death’s hands.”

Her hands squeezed his, holding him upright as her words curled and rose through his mind, sweeter than any music he had ever heard or ever will hear. There were no words that could suffice the justice of the warmth he felt in his chest, no pretty phrase that could define the joy he felt hearing her swear such profoundness to him. Armin dared not hold back now, feeling the tears fall from his eyes and he dared not blink them away. He wanted to remember this moment, to carve it into his mind forever—the sight of Krista dressed in lace and white, wreathed in flowers and the gentle perfumes they emitted, her blue eyes filling with tears as they bore their souls out to be stitched together.

“And now, for the groom,” The Priest urged, chuckling along with the rest of the congregation when Armin gave a little hiccup.

Clearing his throat, the taller blond straightened and smiled, looking through the fabric into Krista’s eyes.

“I…Armin Arlert, do accept the name of Historia Rei--,” his words were cut off, as the wind outside gave a sudden shriek and wail that shook the doors and rattled the windows. Several tremors crashed through the ground, as if the trees outside the room had been ripped down to the ground. Gasps echoed everywhere at the abrupt disturbance. Attention ripped from his bride, Armin felt Krista take a step closer to him, startled. His eyes turned around, finding Erwin’s gaze through the confusion and frightened looks. The leader’s face had fallen into a grim expression.

“Let us proceed with the ceremony,” The priest called to attention, despite the sharp rattling and murmurs from the crowd.

“Armin…?” He heard and when glanced down to Historia, he saw a look of sheer unadulterated terror in her face. She has looking up toward the high windows, eyes wide beneath her veil and pale as a ghost.

Unable to avoid it, Armin lifted his eyes to the windows before feeling all feeling of hope and joy fall apart.

_No…_

* * *

He recognized this feeling intimately. Knew the surge like it was part of an instinct, and suddenly he could feel another urge rise altogether. Dark, demanding, seeking blood…

_Kill…_

Eren squeezed his eyes, feeling the heat spread to every inch of his body, damp rising through to his forehead in bursts of steam. His muscles twitched violently, tossing and forcing him to fall on his back. _Oh god, it burned. It burned…_ Blinking, Eren saw Hanji’s face over him, watching him with wide eyes and mouth that moved with muted words. _Hanji…_

A flash in his mind threw him into a memory. _Ymir, watching him with a flat expression, Bertholdt’s arms around his shoulders and trying to get him to move. To the left, Reiner stared at him with a look of black contempt. “You touch Eren again and I swear to god, I will kill you Reiner!” Bertholdt’s voice ripped through his ears._

_What…?_ Another pulse rocked through his core. _Annie stood above him, gazing at the sky above, rain falling around them in torrents. “He tried to kill you.” He remembered wheezing. Annie looked back down at him._

_“Now, we’re even,” She replied smoothly, Eren felt pain when she lifted a boot to kick him in the side._

The heat was becoming mind-numbing. _Ymir grabbed him around the collar, gazing into his eyes with an expression he had never seen in hers before. “We’re doing this for you!” She roared, blood dribbling down her forehead to drip into her eye, she didn’t even blink. “Remember what side you’re on, Jaeger. Remember what you promised me.”_

_“Protect…Historia…” He nodded, gasping when her hold tightened._

_“Her name is Krista,” Ymir growled._

Another flash of pain and Eren felt his throat ache… was he screaming? _“Please, Eren,” Bertholdt begged, covered in blood and looking exhausted. “Please, don’t forget me. Don’t let my name die.”_

_“Bertholdt, don’t!” Eren cried, reaching a hand out to reach Bert’s crying face. “Don’t do it!”_

_“Tell them…I’m sorry.”_

A scream ripped through his chest and into the whirlwind around him, his arms tightening behind him as his knees scraped the ground. He could feel Hanji’s hands on his shoulders. Could feel other hands grabbing at his clothes, trying to force him down.

_Not now…_

Green eyes squinted open, overwhelmed and meeting a pair of bright brown ones behind a pair of glasses. The brown ones widened and Hanji was pushing away, shoving at hands and scrambling away as the surge swelled in his chest.

_Hanji…!_

_Annie spat blood through her teeth, gripping his neck as she met his eyes with a vicious stare._

_Don’t….!!_

_“Eren,” Annie grunted and a river of red fell down the corner of her lip. “LIVE!” Her hand shoved him and he was falling over an edge. Falling… falling…_

Silence…

Then he heard a fizzing zap, felt electricity burst through the bite on his hand. _Falling…_ into a sudden and terrible darkness.

* * *

Someone screamed, people jumped out seats to look at the window. It was undeniable and in his mind, Armin vaguely realized that the crashes were trees being yanked out of the ground…

They were footsteps.

One large blue eye peered through the window, casting them in shadow as blonde hair and a wide gaze landed directly on to Armin’s eyes.

“It can’t be…” He heard Krista gasp, her hands falling limp at her sides as they stared at the blue eyes watching them from above.

“Annie…” The name fell from his lips.

“Armin!!” Mikasa’s voice broke through the space and suddenly those immense blue eyes were pulling away, revealing a nose, broken skin and a pair of lips, pulled back into a devastating smile.

A hand grabbed at his arm, yanking him away from Krista’s side, but he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe… all he could see was blonde hair and a large body pull away, muscles covered in hardened material like armor. The screams erupted rising when they saw a hand rise in the air before it curled into a fist.

“Annie…” Armin spoke again, feeling numb, feeling nothing. Feeling everything when he heard Levi’s voice in his ear, but could understand nothing. In the background, Erwin was shouting over the screams and horror. Nothing seemed to make sense. Everything jumbled up, noises struck together, discordant and vile.

Somewhere, someone tripped over a chair, crying out as people began to slowly scramble away, but no one could tear their gazes away from the large fist risen over the window. Time slowed down as the fist began to move and Armin realized far too late what was about to happen.

 “No…!” the word fell from his lips, sluggish and misinformed. Behind her Mikasa was being tugged away by Erwin’s immense body, her eyes wide and frantic and landing on a spot behind his shoulder. When he looked back toward Krista, her veil had fallen off her face, and their eyes met in stark shock and horrible fear.

An explosion ripped through the space around them, crashing smoke and dust through the air and forcing them blind. Something knocked him to the ground, the air ripped from his lungs and his eyes were filled with dust. He landed on his back, feeling something fly over his head and crash behind him. _The windows… the gazebo… it’s…_

Bright light burst through the smoke and dust, the sound of stone and wood striking at deafening decibels drilled into his ears. Someone was pressing his head down, covering him tightly as all hell broke loose…

 “…min…Ar…n…Armin!” He heard next to his ear. Armin tried to blink through the dust, tried to breathe through the force around him… Captain Levi lay above him, searching his eyes with wide storm gray eyes, blood fell from a massive scratch on his cheek, but the man looked fine. Armin coughed, and pushed his body up, feeling Levi’s hands grip to his shoulders. “Armin, look at me, don’t look at anything else but me.” He insisted, Armin frowned, groaning when he felt his left leg protest sharply.

“Did you hear me, Arlert?” Levi bellowed, nearly shaking him. “Don’t look at anything else but me, do you understand…?!”

“I…” Armin wheezed, frowning. _No…why? I need to…_ His mind instantly sought for the young blonde woman of his heart, feeling a hysterical bubble rise when he looked to the side and saw nothing but rubble, glass and fallen bodies everywhere.

“Don’t look, Armin!” Levi insisted, gripping at his face and forcing him to meet his gaze, but it had been too late. Something had caught Armin’s attention and it was enough to make him wish he swore he didn’t.

“Armin, don’t!” Levi snarled, but nothing could push his attention away. Nothing could prepare him for the sight that ripped his heart out, taking his soul, his existence… his everything away into a terrible and abysmal chaos.

On the last spot he had seen Historia…there was a huge chunk of debris, a pillar impaling the ground and pinning a figure dressed in white… a sharp breeze forced the dust away and forced the sight into a clarity he wished he’d never know.

Pinned beneath a metal and rock, Armin saw Historia, through her stomach the metal pierced, and the white that had once was, was now drenched in crimson… her eyes were half-closed, blood falling from her lips to drip into stone and crushed edelweiss. Even from where he stood, he could see her lips moving, muttering slowly…fingers reaching weakly…the light in her eyes fading and fading fast…

_No…no, no…_

“Armin!”

“Let me go!!” He cried, scrambling up but screaming when his leg collapsed beneath his weight. Levi caught him but he was already fighting his arms off, “Let me go! I have to get her! I have to go to her!”

“Armin, stop!” Levi roared, holding fast to his waist and beginning to drag him away. Large hands pushed through the gaping hole that was one the entrance to the Dining Hall, pushing away at debris and dust. Several more shrieks and cries ripped into the air…but Armin could only see Historia’s body dragged on the ground.

“No, no!” Armin cried, his throat feeling like it had been ripped to shreds by dust and the force of his screams. “NO, I CAN’T—”

“It’s too late, Armin!”

“NO!”

_It’s too late… it’s too late…_ Those words shattered him, dug nasty fingers into his mind and chest and yanked without mercy, laughed cruelly as he was taken farther and farther away. Armin felt tears run down his cheeks, mingling with blood that dripped from his brow. _It’s too late…_ they didn’t move fast enough… it’s too late.

“HISTORIA!!”


	10. Let Chaos Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired tracks: The Traitor by Jesper Kyd and Lorne Balfe (Assassin’s Creed Revelations) Ronin, by Hans Zimmer, Zai by Hiroyuki Sawano, Raein by Olafur Arnalds, Bratja by Michiru Oshima (The song Li sings) Watch the World Burn, Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard (The Dark Knight)

Everywhere…

Blood stained stone, flickered over wood and ran down skin in rivulets, casting contrasts of skin and dust so morbid it was almost beautiful. Wind and screams howled in ears while the confused and frightened scattered like mice caught within a hiding place. All she could see was them, running.

_Not here. Not there… where?_

Carefully, almost painstakingly, her hands searched through the rubble, searching… searching…

_Not here… not here…_

Bright brown eyes turned up and stared, horrified and frozen. Tears fell down those eyes, but she didn’t care for them.

Lift the boulder, slap away the beams of metal… _Not here… not here…_

_Where?_

_Where…?_

_WHERE?!_

* * *

Something hard was squeezing him, pressing tighter and tighter to the ground. Why was everything upside down…? It hurt to breathe, but he had to get up… he had to move. What…happened?

“…!” He could hear now… like a faint buzzing in the background. He moved, blinking, trying to understand why the world was upside down, why there was so much light and why there was something crushing him…

Images blurred together until he saw a blob move through the space, it neared him but he could only groan when it shouted something. Amber eyes looked into his, frantic and tear-stained. _Wake up… what’s wrong with me?_

He felt something grab him, recognized the eyes slowly and the mouth that moved in a cry that he couldn’t hear but realized was his name. He tried to focus, the way the mouth parted and closed, looked stretched and so distressed…

“… N…!!” He felt whatever was crushing him move, shift just slightly that air rushed into his chest and filled his boggled mind. Clarity burned up his nostrils like the dust curling in the air, making him let out a sharp groan and his body twitched, forcing him on his side and making the world-right side up again.

“… Ean… J…!!” He heard, but couldn’t seem to shake off that buzzing in the back of his ears, couldn’t seem to shake off the desire to push away everyone and just curl and sleep. It hurt… _God, everything hurts._

“Jean!” The word struck him like a bullet, jumping down his spine to collapse at the base of his hips and he could feel his body lift, gripping to stone and rubble. His knee was aching, his hands felt scathed, but he was turning and suddenly his lungs couldn’t handle all the dust and pressure—a violent cough ripped through his throat and he felt pressure on his neck: a hand.

Everything assaulted his mind then, the horror, the violence, the fear when he realized that huge set of eyes they had seen over the window had belonged to a titan—no…Annie. Annie was here. Annie was alive… but why…? How…?

“Jean! Can you hear me, are you alright?!” Connie’s voice hit him again, and he had to shake his head and nearly winced when his chest protested.

“I’m fine,” He wheezed, and felt something sharp dig into his head. “Agh!”

“Careful,” Connie exclaimed and his hand reached up to force Jean’s head to duck before helping him to his feet, “You nearly impaled yourself on that beam there.”

Jean frowned and glanced up, sure enough he saw the beam—saw how close it would’ve ripped him apart. His stomach gave a violent lurch, but Jean forced himself to straighten. He winced, lifting a hand to grip to his head and feeling blood stain his fingers where the metal had scratched him.

“What’s going on?” Jean asked, turning wide eyes on Connie’s. “Is Annie still here?”

Connie’s face turned grim, “She’s—“

Another crash sounded and they both glanced up, Jean noticed how they had ended up behind a large piece of rubble, and it obscured their vision to the gaping hole that had once been windows and walls of stone. A shriek broke through the air before it was suddenly silenced and they both scrambled out of the way of their current location.

Jean let out a slow gasp to Connie’s grunt of despair. The immense shape of Annie’s figure was crouched ahead, blue eyes wide as she looked at the body in her hands—it was one of the Military Policemen, a woman with bright brown hair and she thrashed and kicked, sobbing. Annie’s face appeared disinterested before carelessly tossing the woman to the side. The woman’s shriek’s ended the moment her body hit the ground and out of sight.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Connie said, stepping out from behind the rubble in search for a route of escape, “I don’t know where the others are.”

“Where’s Mikasa?” Jean asked, dropping a bloodstained hand to grip his side, grimacing when he felt the cloth of his suit had torn and skin was dripping with blood. It was a shallow cut, but it hurt like hell. Connie shook his head, looking battered and bruised, but alright.

“Last I saw, Commander Erwin had her in his arms… I haven’t seen—,” He stopped, gasping deeply, eyes widening with newfound horror. He was moving before Jean could try to stop him, “Oh my god, Historia!!” Jean followed, feeling his chest constrict at the way Connie shouted. His eyes followed Connie has he rushed past their hiding place and to a large piece of wall that lay over the bloodstained ground. A panic lunged at his heart and made it burst into a gallop, upon seeing pale blonde hair and tossed hands beneath the stone.

“Jean, help me get this off of her, quick!!” Connie shouted, yanking at his suit and hastily pressing it over the fallen bride’s side. Jean moved, grateful his legs weren’t injured aside from some bruising, and when he reached Connie, he nearly collapsed.

“Connie… Oh, God, no…” The officer wheezed, feeling a tremor begin in his hands as he saw the state of their beloved friend. Connie was pressing the suit to Historia’s side tightly, hands stained with blood. Lilac and daisy petals were strewn around her, speckled with blood. Her white dress was a deep shape of crimson near her belly where a long metal beam protruded from her side, the beam supported a chunk of rock and stone away from the rest of her body. Had the beam hit anywhere else, the rest of the rubble would’ve completely crushed her. A thin stream of crimson was dribbling down the corner of her lip. Her eyes were still half-open—was she even conscious? Could she even be alive…?

“She’s still breathing, Jean,” Connie exclaimed, rubbing the back of his hand against his cheek, accidentally smearing gore on the skin as he did so, “Quick, we have to move this thing off of her before she bleeds to death! Jean!”

The shout seemed to have snapped him to his senses, forcing his eyes away from Historia’s fallen body to approach the boulder above her. But, how? Where should they push?

“Jean!” Connie screamed again and he couldn’t help but feel his own hysteria work against him.

“I can’t move this fucking thing on my own, Connie!” Jean bellowed, feeling useless, “One wrong move and it can crush her!”

“I’m trying to stop her bleeding, figure something out!!” Connie snapped back. Jean whirled around, his hands running through his hair in desperation, trying to find something—anything—big enough to move the immense piece of debris out of the way. Through the dust, he saw Annie’s hand reach through the entrance push and lift rocks away. It confused him. _Why isn’t she just killing people? What is she doing?_ It was as if… she were searching for something… or someone…

An idea suddenly hit him in the back of the head, and before he could think, he was surging forward, feeling wind and dust hit his face and clothes as he tried to stand in plain sight.

Behind him, Connie screamed for him, “Jean, what are you doing?! Jean!!”

“I’m finding a way to get that off her!” Jean shouted, and began to throw his arms up, waving them like a madman and screaming. “Annie! Hey, over here!!”

“Jean, don’t!” Connie cried, but Jean ignored him. Pushing himself up a piece of rubble, he scrambled up the broken piece of stone, grunting viciously when metal and glass bit and ripped into his hands and knees. When he managed to get himself high enough, he was waving again, screaming and hollering despite the agony in his side, the heat that poured down the wound beneath his ribs.

Annie’s blue eyes turned and finally blinked up, landing on his figure before widening with surprise. Jean let out another shout, “Over here, you stupid bitch!” He roared before he turned and jumped off the stone, nearly twisting his ankle when he landed roughly on the ground. Running, he swerved around another piece of debris, exclaiming when he saw her hand land close to him with a crash before lifting again. When he rushed back to Connie, the soldier was screaming at him to stop.

“Why are you bringing her over here?!”

“Just shut up and hold on to Historia!” He exclaimed, before skidding behind the large piece of rubble that stuck to Historia’s body, when he got close enough he could hear her wheezing.

“C-Con…nie…” her voice came out tiny through the crashes and screams around them. The soldier scrambled close to her when Annie’s large fingers peeked over and curled around the stone. Jean crawled toward the blonde girl, holding on to her shoulders tightly and hoping against hope that this was a good idea. It was too late to go back. The piece of debris moved and began to pull away, Historia let out a gurgling scream, blood squirting from her side to hit Connie against his jaw and shirt. The massive beam was finally yanked out, and a bright stream of sunlight fell over them after it was tossed away.

Jean and Connie moved fast, pressing hands firmly against the open wounds and trying to staunch the bleeding.

“You idiot, what have you done?!” Connie shouted, shaking hands pressing his suit tighter against the hole in the young blonde’s side. She was wailing softly now, tears and blood mingling beneath her face, fingers reaching behind where Connie knelt.

“…Min…Armin…” She sobbed, coughing up blood.

“You wanted to get the damn thing off!” Jean roared back, but was starting to regret bringing Annie’s attention over.

“Well now you brought Annie’s attention here, you idiot!” Connie snarled back. Suddenly, those fingers returned, moving slowly over to them and looming above them. “Quick, grab her and let’s get out of here!” Jean nodded, moving quickly toward the crying woman’s side, and tried to scoop her up as gently as he could. Almost immediately he could feel her blood run down his torso. Connie’s jacket was doing very little to staunch the bleeding.

Historia let out another little wail, blinking up with wide blue eyes and skin so pale it sent jolts of fear down his core. “Armin…Ar…min…” She wheezed, appearing unresponsive.

“She’s losing too much blood!” Jean exclaimed, before ducking under a finger. Swiftly, they escaped, dodging debris and fallen people. Bodies and limbs stuck out in awkward angles beneath pieces of stone and shards of glass, reminding them all too much of a past they had thought they had escaped. More crashes, more screams and Jean was squeezing Historia’s body as tightly to his body as he could, hoping the added pressure would keep her from bleeding out.

“Where’s the door?” Connie wheezed, footsteps landing next to Jean as they tried to move out of the way from Annie’s reaching fingers. A sudden shout to Jean’s left made him look to over his shoulder, nearly stumbling when he saw Sasha, leg caught under a wooden beam, dress torn and sobbing as she tried to push herself out.

“Sasha!!” He screamed, feeling both relief and fear overwhelm him when he saw she couldn’t get out from under the beam. Her eyes searched frantically around for him before landing on his eyes, she let out a loud cry of relief.

“Jean!” She exclaimed, waving bloodstained hands at him. He could see several cuts and gashes over her bare arms and shoulders, saw a thin sliver of glass protruding from her hip.

“Jean, don’t!” Connie shouted, grabbing at his shoulders and pushing him on. “Don’t attract Annie over to her!”

Jean tried to slow down, tried to shove Connie’s hands away from his shoulders. “No—but, I can’t just—Sasha!!”

“Jean, please!” He heard before he lost sight of her behind a large beam and stone chunk of wall that looked like the top of the main entrance. Connie gave him a firm shove, forcing him ever faster.

“You take Historia out of here,” Connie ordered behind him, panting heavily. “I’ll worry about Sasha, but you have to hurry! Hurry or Historia could die!”

“What about Annie?”

Connie let out a sharp grunt, “Leave that to me, I’ll distract her than get to Sasha. Just _move_! And try to find Captain Levi!” Just like that Connie was making a turn and leaving him to fend for himself, and Jean had to bite down on his lip to keep from breaking down—hating himself for not being able to go to the woman he loves. In his arms, Historia gave a little whimper, and when he looked down her eyelids were dropping, a red bubble bursting between her lips as she struggled to breathe.

“No, no nonono, no, Historia!” Jean shouted, trying not to shake her too roughly, “Stay with me. Stay awake, don’t you dare fall asleep on me now!” Ahead he saw the door to the south side of the Dining hall, partly opened and partly closed as whoever survived the initial explosion tried to squeeze in. Soldiers behind the doors pulled people in as fast as they could, shouting orders amongst the screams and shouts for help.

“Move!” Jean shouted as he neared the door, “Get out of the way, this is an emergency!”

“Kirschstein!” He heard, and to his relief he saw Alex, blood oozing from a cut on his temple and from one of his nostrils, but the man was helping people through.

“Alex, help me get her to the infirmary,” Jean ordered, but another crash shook the room, bursting a sharp gale of air and dust through the space and making people give shouts of panic. Alex had ducked instinctively, gray blue eyes jumping to the source of the crash and letting out a low gasp of horror. “Alex!!”

The soldier snapped back to look into Jean’s eyes before flicking down to the figure in his arms, lips parting through a low grunt and nodding swiftly. “What happened?”

“Metal beam went through her side, I think it may have ruptured something but I don’t know…I’m not a medic.”

Alex nodded, “She’s bleeding too profusely, we can’t get her to the infirmary in time. Everyone move, we’ve got a serious problem here! Cray! Kirschstein’s got Historia Reiss, and she’s badly wounded!”

The crowd parted reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to escape through the only exit they had, a huge burly soldier appeared behind the door, shoving people out of the way the second his small brown eyes landed on Jean and the bloodied Historia in his arms.

“Out of the way!” He bellowed, shoving people and making way for Jean and Alex to push through. The raven haired soldier reached up to Jean, grasping to Historia’s limp wrist and pinching two fingers against the joint.

“Her heartbeat is too low,” Alex muttered as they pushed through people and finally within the safety of the hallways. People were running, this way and that while soldiers rushed in, some of them already bearing their 3DMG on their hips as they ushered guests out of the ruined dining hall. So many people were wounded and were being rushed to the infirmary. Alex’s narrow eyes tightened before looking back up, brightening when he saw another group of soldiers fast approaching. Jean recognized them as some of the doctors and staff that worked the infirmary, he could feel some relief knowing that they were here.

“Lieutenant Alfons!” Alex exclaimed, urging Jean quickly toward a man with dirty blond hair and deep-set green eyes. The man looked away from a soldier with a broken wrist, to meet their eyes. Once he saw Historia, he straightened and approached them immediately.

“What’s the status?” He asked and Jean nearly shouted with exasperation. Alex beat him to it.

“She’s been impaled, sir. Her heartbeat is dangerously low, I’m suspecting some massive hemorrhaging and even internal bleeding. She’s non-responsive. If we don’t get her to intensive care, she won’t last long.” The bowl-cut explained, voice shockingly calm despite the shaking in his hands. Jean threw him an impressed glance, but turned back to look at the Lieutenant.

The tall, middle-aged man gave them a rapid series of nods before turning around, “This way,” He ordered. “I need six medics with me now! Someone find Lieutenant Briggs and tell her we need space for an emergency operation! I need one-hundred milligrams of…!” Jean stopped paying attention then, looking down to meet Historia’s struggling gaze.

“Hold on, Historia. Just hold on, okay?” He said softly, blinking back tears as she gazed off into the distance, unhearing. “Come on, ‘Tori, just stay with me, okay? We’re going to get you help… just hold on… please…”

Several minutes later the sound of crashes and explosions fell silent, and when Jean had placed Historia’s body on a white cot, she had already passed out. Before he could do or say anything more, he was shoved out of a room alone with another soldier, whom held him back as he tried to stay with the blonde woman. In the end, the doors shut, and he could do nothing save collapse to his knees and sob.

“Please… please…” He wept, gripping to his pants and gritting his teeth. He had never felt so useless in all his life. “Please… someone… please…”

_This world is so cruel…_

* * *

_There. It is there. I can hear him. He is close… not here._

_Where?_

_Where??_

_I…_

_He is there. He is there. I can feel him (hear him? Taste him?) close… somewhere. Only way… must find…_

_Find…_

_Find…_

**_Kill… ?—_** No! Can’t, must not— **Kill. Destroy… eat… eat…eateateat**

_Find him. That is the way. **Kill—** NO!— **Eat**_

_Find… him._

_Must find him._

**_Eren…_ **

* * *

Footsteps rushed up and down, cries and screams echoed everywhere. For a long moment all she could see was dust, all this dust and falling rocks and flying wood splinters. Someone had shoved her, or maybe it was something because when it hit, it hit her hard enough to send her sprawling to the ground. Something sharp bit into her back and shoulder, but she bit her lip to keep from screaming.

She tasted blood.

Green eyes flickered open, trying to see through the dust and smoke, to make sense of what had happened. Wind whipped and burst around her, shoving dirt and grit into her eyes and mouth, she turned and spit.

Li let out a hard grunt, noting the sharp pain in her shoulder didn’t ebb, but further got worse and when she reached up to feel what was causing it, her fingers met a thick sliver of glass. Pain reverberated through her, inching through her side and stabbing her back. Swearing brutally under her breath, Li pushed herself up to her elbows, wincing when something caught on her hair and forced her to stay down.

Looking up, she saw that a thick strand of her auburn hair was caught within a huge beam of wood, just inches away and reminding her how close she came to certain death. Reaching with her good hand, she grabbed the strand and yanked against the wood, grunting when it ripped free to fall against her sweat drenched cheek. Fingers reached to wipe the sweat away, but when she saw them, they came back stained a fierce red.

“Great,” She groaned, and tried to find the source—it was the throbbing pain above her brow and near her scalp. Hot and slippery, she tried to see how deep it was, but it didn’t seem to be more than a flesh wound. “A flesh wound that fucking hurts.”

Looking up and away from the beam of wood (it appeared like it had been a part of the main doors) Li felt her throat clench upon seeing the body of the priest, half of it crushed against the gazebo, blood pouring between his open mouth and wide unseeing eyes.

Her stomach dipped and she looked away, fighting the urge to retch when she saw more bodies crushed beneath the roof of the gazebo. The entire structure had been crushed by a huge piece of debris, killing all who were within it.

Glancing down, Li tried to think straight, trying to pick herself up and dust her ruined dress off. She couldn’t, a fierce trembling rushed through her limbs, making the shard sticking through her shoulder feel like it was being dug deeper. A small cry of pain was yanked from her throat, and she was reaching again to grab the stabbing object. Once, twice, Li tried to pull but the pain was so strong she could do nothing but bite back screams and blink away tears.

Another crash sounded, more screams rose and she could feel the ground shake with every thunderous thud that echoed ahead of her. Auburn hair whipped around her cheeks, and grazed her collarbone where she felt a long gash bleed and stain the lilac of her bodice. Blinking up, Li tried to find someone, anyone else beside her. All she saw was debris, gore, and massive hands that could belong to no one else but a Titan rake through the chaos. Ahead, she could see large blue eyes and blonde hair, a small smile lifting the lips of the beast ahead.

Li felt her eyes well up. Hot, angry tears fell down her smoke covered cheeks and burning down to her neck, drying when another gust of wind blew through the cracks of the huge opening that was now the entrance. “Why…” She whispered, gritting her teeth as she clenched her fists over her skinned knees. “Why…”

She watched, helplessly, while the female titan plucked a woman in her grasp. The Military Police emblem stained with bright crimson on her back as she struggled in the Titan’s grasp. As if tossing nothing else than a doll, the Titan threw the woman’s body to the side. Li saw her body flail as it fell to the ground out of sight, her screams ending abruptly.

“Why can’t you bastards just _DIE?!_ ” Li screeched, feeling her rage feed her bones life and she stood to her feet, grimacing when she felt the shard send white hot jolts of pain through her back. Never before did she wish she had her gear with her as much as she did now.

She took a step, feeling something in her spine pinch and the result ended up making her left leg feel numb. Li nearly collapsed, lifting her good arm to grab onto the nearest bit of rubble to steady herself. The broken stone bit at her palms, Li shoved herself back to her feet.

“… L… Li… Hanna…” The voice hit her with the force of a million knives, cold and disastrous. Li froze, disbelieving as she listened, hoping that it was a figment of her rage-muddled imagination. The wind howled before dying, screams and cries fading as she tried to focus.

“Hanna… Hanna…” She heard again, and Li began to move, spurred by panic and fear, rage dying like the wind. Limping, she pushed on, trying to find the source of the voice and its quiet sobbing. _No, no, God. Please, no…_

“Li…” The voice came again, to the right! Li stumbled forward, feeling blood drip hot down her back. The pinch in her back only felt tighter, like someone were pulling her nerves harder, and harder. “Hanna…”

Another tremor and Li fell to her knees, crying out when her shin hit rock and felt the skin scrap against stone and splintered wood. Relentless, Li moved again, pushing herself and shoving herself passed pools of blood, shattered chairs and dust covered flower petals. Through the dust, Li searched frantically, green eyes scanning what she could in search of the source, hoping that it wasn’t as bad.

_She’s going to be fine… When I see her, she’s going to be okay. She’s going to be alright. Please… please… please!!_

“Li…”

She heard again, and looked down before letting out a choked wail, “No!” Scrambling over uneven ground and loose stones, Li ignored the screams of her shoulder, hurrying to get to the crushed body of her sister. A huge piece of glass had sliced through Riza’s chest, wood and stone crushing her body from the waist down. Blood was pooling beneath her and the pool spread slowly. The younger Dorinski was gazing up at the ceiling, blood bubbling against her lips, tears fell from her eyes in wet trails down her temples, mingling with blood from a cut on her cheek.

As soon as she was close, Li collapsed, feeling her body shake as she crawled closer to the auburn haired woman on the ground. “Hanna…” Riza wheezed in a tiny voice, broken with fear and sadness.

“I’m here,” Li said, lifting bloodied fingers to part dust peppered auburn hair out of the girl’s forehead, tears fell down her eyes without restraint. “I’m here, Ri’, I’m here.”

“It hurts, Hanna…” Riza whimpered, fingers slowly lifting from her bloodied chest, wavering. Li lifted a shaky hand to grip the girl’s hand, it felt so cold beneath her rage-heated flesh. “Hanna… my chest hurts…”

Li bit back a sob, feeling the pressure of the tremors and her sister’s grave wound send her chest rattling with numb pain. “I know, Ri’. I know it hurts. You’re gonna be okay… I promise.”

Riza’s green eyes swiveled to meet Li’s, faded green on painful green. A small smile quirked the dying girl’s lips, “Liar.”

Li felt a laugh burst through her lips, grief-stricken and hysterical. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t lie…” She said, but Riza’s eyes were looking away, up above.

“I’m sorry…” Riza whispered and Li’s heart caved into the hole that was her stomach.

“No, no,” Li begged, scooting closer and ignoring the harshness of stone, the cold wind that surrounded them and the blood that stained the bottom of her dress. Her blood. Her sister’s blood. “Riza, don’t. Just hang on, okay? We’re going to get you help, you’re gonna be fine. Please… don’t—FITZ!! CONNIE! SOMEONE PLEASE!” She screamed, looking up to see the Titan’s hands reach through the entrance, grabbing stone and lifting it, a loud scream burst when the stone lifted.

“Someone!” Li screeched, gripping to her sister’s hand and trying to find someone close by. Another crash and someone else screamed—nearby she heard Jean’s voice, crowded by footsteps and screams of everyone else.

“Hanna…” Li heard again and she looked back down, to see Riza shaking her head slowly. “It’s okay… Hanna…”

_No. No, no. Please…_

Riza coughed, blood flying from her lips, landing on Li’s chest, her jaw. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I made you push us away…”

_Is that what she thought? What she believed?_ “No, Ri’, it’s not—it wasn’t your fault… please, just don’t speak, save your breath. I’m going to get you out of here, little sister, so don’t you dare leave now!”

But, Riza wasn’t listening, she just kept shaking her head, blood dripping down her chin and smearing through her jaw before sinking behind her ear. Li inched closer, lifting her sister’s head to cradle between her arms. More crashes, more tremors, more screaming… this was hell.

“Come on, Ri’, I’m here. I’m not leaving you again. I’m going to save you, just like I promised mama. I’m going to keep you safe…” But the words came out shaking, torn by hiccups and sobs of grief. Li knew it was too late. Her sister was dying.

And there was nothing she could do.

“You haven’t… called me that… since we were little… Hanna…” Riza was murmuring now, a soft gasp leaving her chest in what once would have been a chuckle, the light in her once vibrant green eyes fading. In her arms, Li didn’t see the soldier she had trained in her squad, she didn’t see the ridiculous woman who poured over romance books and sighed behind Fitz’s back and stared longingly at his frame. Instead, Li saw the little girl whom had gasped so loudly, cheered with a squeal when she had brought her the basket of ribbons. Saw the little girl who spun in vibrant dresses and begged her to play dolls. She saw the girl who had cried when Li walked out the door, bag packed and hoisted behind her back. _“Don’t go, Hanna! Please, Papa didn’t mean it! Please, don’t leave me alone!”_

“I’m not going anywhere…” Li whispered, lifting her sister’s head to her chest, cradling her broken cheek and running trembling fingers through her auburn hair, now dirtied and stained with blood.

“…Don’t tell… Lidi…” Riza’s body gave a sudden violent lurch, and the heat of blood spread further and further. When Riza’s body finally fell limp, her eyes were still open, gazing into the broken sky above them and the last remains of a smile faded with the breath that ended past crimson stained lips.

“Ri…?!” Li gasped, “Riza?!” She shook her trying to get her baby sister to look at her again, but Riza’s eyes didn’t move, her lips didn’t mutter any more words. “Riza, don’t stay quiet now! Please, Riza?! Riza?! Riza, say something! Anything!!”

Nothing… and the realization that her sister had gone swelled her chest with such a horrid pain… no words could explain the length of this failure, the agony that flowed pins and needles, acid and ice through her soul.

“Riza, I’m sorry…! Riza, please… don’t go…!” Tears fell like rain from her eyes, landing on Riza’s cold cheek and landing in soft thuds against the corner of her lips. She felt so cold… no matter how hard she begged… Riza was gone.

“Riza!” Li sobbed, rocking back and forth as she held her sister’s head in her arms, wishing to take back all the years she had treated her coldly, wishing to go back in time and run back into that little girl’s arms and promise not to leave. She wished she could go back and sit next to her sister while she ate lunch alone, punch the lights out of all the soldiers that had teased her for her height. She had thought she had been doing her a favor… teaching her to be stronger… but she had only further caused her sister pain.

A low wail burst from her throat, filling her as she tossed her head back and screamed to the air above. _Oh, mama… Please forgive me…_

“Li?!” She heard, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Riza was gone. Her sister was dead. She had been powerless, she had done nothing… and because of that Riza would never come back, would never squeal or get on her nerves… Riza was gone… she was gone…

“Li, what’s going on?!” She heard, and the voice made her want to die.

“Go away, Fitz!” Li screamed, shielding her sister’s head away. Footsteps approached and she heard a gasp, before a thud. When she looked up, Fitz had fallen to his knees, his wide amber eyes staring at Riza’s body—shocked.

“Get out of here,” Li barked, “It’s not safe! Get somewhere safe!”

“Li…” He breathed, staring at Riza’s bloodied face with a look of profound agony. “Is she…? It can’t be…”

“GO!!” Li shrieked, reaching for anything to throw at him, but he was already looking into her eyes, filled with tears.

“But…Riza…” He protested, shaking his head, the wild brown locks of his hair shaking with the wind. He was cradling his arm, obviously broken. Li shook her head again, blinking away tears and baring her teeth at the idiot.

She snapped, “Riza is dead!” Fitz flinched, recoiling at her harsh tone. “Now get out of here.”

“I can’t leave you behin—,”

“That’s an order, cadet!” she snarled, and Fitz let out a small exclamation when the ground beneath them shook again. “You can’t help me even if you tried, not with that broken arm… now leave! Don’t make me say it again!” Fitz’s eyebrows knitted over his forehead, tears falling from his eyes as he looked back at the fallen woman in Li’s lap before nodding once.

Squeezing amber eyes tight, he stood and ran off, not looking back once. Another breeze struck her as Li looked back down to her sister’s face. Lifting a hand, she softly pushed away straying locks of hair from her baby sister’s face, lifting bloody fingers to gently close her sister’s eyes. Through the crashes and destruction, Li felt a small memory reach the front of her mind. It was one of their youth, when they had gone with their mother to the funeral of a young boy that died of disease. The boy’s older brother had sang a song during the ceremony, soft and beautiful… the words never left her and as she gazed into her sister’s pale face, felt it more appropriate now than ever…

“ _P…Prosti menya, myaldshiy sestrenka…_ ” Li shuddered out the words, voice breaking over the notes as she tried to sing her sister goodbye. “ _Ya tak pred toboy vinovat. Pyitatsya vernut' nyelzya. Togo, chto vzyala zyemlya._ ”

Another crash and dust fell over her head, but Li didn’t care, didn’t mind the pebbles that struck her shoulders and made her wound ache. That pain was nothing. That pain she could handle… that pain was nothing…

The words continued to fall from her lips, shuddering and tiny as she hiccupped, caressing Riza’s head as she rocked back and forth, “ _Kto znayet zakon Byitiya, pomog byi mne nayti otvet. Zhestoko oshibsya ya; Ot smerti lekarstva nyet._ ”

Footsteps rushed close, then faded as Li cried, feeling the pain settle within her throat where it refused to escape despite her cries. It’s too late… It’s too late…

“Li!” She heard. Her shoulder lifted in an uncaring shrug, but a fierce zing of agony ripped through the movement, making her cry out and clench fingers against Riza’s face. Footsteps neared and she felt hands grab her around the ribs, pulling at her. Li shook off the hands, ignoring the biting pain of her shoulder.

“Let me go!” She shouted, lifting tear-stained eyes angrily into a pair of wide amber eyes, blood caked the side of his face. Connie looked down before his mouth set in a grim line, eyes finding Riza’s head on her lap, much like Fitz had done just a moment ago… or was it hours? Li didn’t care.

“Li, we have to leave,” Connie spoke, voice soft but firm. Li shook her head, gripping tighter to her sister’s head.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promised…” She snapped, hating the hysterical edge that shattered beneath her chest and made her tremble. “I promised her I wouldn’t leave. I promised, Connie.”

“I’m sorry,” He said, grave. “I’m so sorry…”

Li felt a rage unlike any she had ever felt, fill her, making her blood feel like acid in her veins, forcing her limbs to move. Sharply, she tossed her wounded arm up to slap him, but the limb only barely rose before the pain was too much, “Shut up!”

“It’s too dangerous, here, Li.” Connie said, looking into her eyes, calm… focused. It made her want to kill him.

“I said I am _not leaving her!_ ” To her surprise, Connie looked away and for a moment she thought he would get up and leave like Fitz did. Instead, he threw a hand up to her shoulder, grasped it around the thick piece of glass that was embedded in her skin and gave it a violent yank. Li let out a shriek of agony, feeling her arm go numb and feel like it had been lit on fire, blood ran down her arm and in this moment of weakness, Connie grabbed her round her waist and pulled her away from Riza’s corpse.

“No!” She screamed, thrashing in his hold when he curled an arm under her legs. “Put me down! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!!”

“I’m sorry,” He said again, pressing her tight against his chest, forcing her head to rest between his shoulder and neck. “I’m so sorry…”

“Riza!” Li’s shouts turned hysterical, crushing her throat as she tried and tried in vain to return to her sister. She sobbed, watching the unresponsive body of the auburn haired woman get further and further away. She was gone… _I promised! I promised!!_ “Riza—Riza… No, no… Riza!!”

Another crash and she saw a piece of rubble from above fall, crushing the last of Riza out of sight, Li hid her face then, digging her nose against Connie’s neck as she wailed, trembling with agony and failure…

It was too late.

Agonized and livid, Li looked up over Connie’s shoulder, glowering hatefully at the hands that searched through the rubble, the blue eyes that stared without comprehensible expression and the small smile that enraged the blood in her veins. Suddenly, the Female Titan’s hands stopped, her eyes widening before pulling away and looking somewhere outside the ruined dining hall. In the distance, they could both hear the whirring of gear and see several hooks fly into the air, latching against the Titan’s skin as soldiers flew into the air.

Li’s eyes watched, taking in with horrid rage how the Female Titan grasped at the lines and wire, yanking them off her skin and throwing the screaming soldiers out of the way, with the same attitude one would have for swatting flies.

“What is she…?!” She heard Connie exclaim, slowing to turn them around and watch. “Annie…”

Annie stood, massive body rising from her crouched position before turning around, sunlight bouncing off her hair and without another glance back, began to run off. Her footsteps shook the ground, sending tremors through the castle and making the weakest parts of the ceiling cave. Connie let out a yelp but turning around and ran as the roar of stones falling cast them in a plume of dust.

Li felt her fingers dig within his jacket, eyes averting as dust and dirt fell around them, holding back the urge to scream as the motions jostled her wounds and hurt her chest. Connie didn’t stop running and they moved ever faster, jumping over beams and swerving around stone before finally reaching the door.

People were scarce now, wailing and crying as the castle walls shook. They didn’t stop, Connie shoved his way past people while Li bit her lips, wishing this would all just end.

Seconds later, the roaring stopped, the walls remained standing and the cries soon faded. Connie panted heavily, but he didn’t stop. Li kept her gaze covered against his shirt, shuddering as he slowed and trying to hold back her weeping once he set her down on what must’ve been a cot.

“Li…” Connie spoke softly after an eternity of silence between them. She didn’t bother holding back.

“I’m going to kill her…! I swear to god, Connie… I’m going to kill her for this! I’ll kill her!”

Connie said nothing as she ranted, kept his eyes downcast when she pushed him away and felt the hands of medics reach and press her flat on her stomach. Even so, Li cried, sobbing until she could feel no more tears, feel no more pain.

And in the chaos that surrounded her, Li cast her heart in vengeance, plotting and enduring the seconds that passed until she faded to the black of her mind, picturing her hands ripping swords into Annie’s neck before she felt nothing more but the desire to avenge her sister’s death.

* * *

“Why…?” The word was soft… a supplication. A need to understand… it fell on deaf ears and a deafening realization that the answer would not come on its own volition. Through the destruction, the rain of stone and dust, dodging hail of glass and piercing slivers of metal, Levi tore through the chaos. In his arms, he held Armin, firm against his chest while the youth succumbed to shock and grief.

“Why…?” The question came again, and the Captain had to squeeze his eyes shut at the pain of being unable to offer the answer his comrade and friend suffered the loss of his wife over. Only… she wasn’t his wife. She had almost been his wife… they had been so close to marriage. So close.

Levi didn’t know what was crueler, the fact that the wedding was cut so horribly short before they had become husband and wife… or the simple notice that Historia was most likely dead.

Dodging obstacles and scattering people, Levi tried to locate an exit, snarling under his breath when an immense piece of debris nearly killed them—forcing him to double back and find another route in the midst of metal and blood.

Armin had been difficult, though Levi couldn’t possibly blame him. The raven haired man had honestly tried to pull attention away from the disaster. After the initial explosion and parting of dust through wind, Levi had been the first to see her… Historia pinned and impaled by a large beam of metal, bleeding and unconscious. He tried to see her, further, realizing that the steel had gone through her side and that even if he did have his equipment—there would be no way he would be able to get that piece of rubble off of her in time.

Levi had to make a call—he had to place the safety of Armin first, make sure he would survive and that the rest of his time would as well ( _Oh god, Mikasa… please be alright._ ) He wasn’t too worried, however…

In the moments before the explosion, the very first tremor had been enough to alarm him. He had glanced up, listening to the howl of the wind as his eyes met Erwin’s through the space, scowling when he saw the man’s face contort into an expression of suspicion… then ultimately, horror.

The moment he did, Levi turned his attention to the windows above, he knew that there was possibly nothing else that could be wrong.

Stunned, he watched along with everyone else as the immense figure of the Female Titan peered through the glass—wide blue eyes looking over the congregation before pulling away. Years of training, of honing the ability to foresee disaster made him snap when the stare had been broken. He turned, and looked across the space to Erwin’s eyes—he was looking right back, a fierce expression pushing the blue into razor sharp azure and they came to an instant understanding.

Save Historia.

But, the millisecond they looked away, Levi was confronted with the wide eyed gaze of his beloved. Mikasa looked like someone had punched her in the gut, pale, frightened—the plan fell apart then, Levi wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and make sure she got out safe… but time was against him and there were only a couple of people he could reach.

Screams rose in a cacophony of terror, people rose out of seats to escape when Annie’s arm poised itself in a fist just above the windows.

Levi felt his stomach fall as his body careened through the mere couple of yards that separated him from the blond couple. He grabbed the arm nearest to him—Armin—and thought that he still held on to Historia.

He hadn’t.

Over his shoulder, Levi saw Erwin, rushing to the nearest person he could get—Mikasa—and was grabbing her around the waist, eager to escape. That was all he saw before a cloud of dust, screeching metal and shattering glass assaulted them and the tremors of stone shaking swallowed the screams and howls from the people within the building.

It was too late.

Something flew past his cheek, severing the skin of his face and the sting and heat nearly made him lose focus. Only, Levi was a veteran. He had survived all these years because he had seen horrors and had acted when everyone else froze… yet… on this day…

They received yet another grim reminder…

That no matter how much one could be prepared, physically, mentally… life was a damn fragile thing and it would break despite the strength they possessed. In their world, not everyone survived. Today, Levi saw that painted in the blood of Historia… the girl he had once berated for weakness, and watched her rise stronger than ever when they understood each other. It was Petra all over again.

“Why…? Annie…” Armin sounded so small, so much like the crying boy of his youth—broken by the loss of his friends and torn by the horrors he’d seen. Levi glanced down at him as he rushed them out of the room as fast as he could, and instantly regretted it.

His eyes had fallen, half-closed in an expression of such profound desolation it forced its way through Levi’s throat and scratch at his lungs. He recognized it. He had seen it in his mirror after he had seen Petra’s body roll off the cart, seen the way his comrades stared endlessly into the void.

He only hoped that Armin would not fall to the part that usually followed desolation.

“Armin,” Levi said after they hid behind a large piece of wood, “Armin, look at me.”

He did, and his expression was so wild, so overwhelmed it made the words threaten to cake against Levi’s throat. The Captain let out a short cough, blaming dust when his own chest squeezed horribly at the reminder of yet another failure in protecting his family. “You have to run with me.”

The boy said nothing, before looking down, eyes falling uselessly against the blood that fell down Levi’s left thigh. Rivulets of red coursed down Armin’s temple, the head wound looked shallow and so Levi wasn’t too worried over it. The wound to his heart, however…

“Armin,” Levi said, firmer, “I can’t carry you all the way to the exits, you have to run.”

Another crash, another screech. Armin looked at his lap, bringing his knees to his face and curling into a ball.

“Armin!”

“I can’t... I…”

Levi bit his lip and another crash made dust rain over them, making it hard to see. He felt so tired all of a sudden… Reaching up, Levi grabbed the blond man’s face into his hands, lifting his eyes back over to his—he didn’t want to see this expression, but he had no choice. “Armin, you can weep for her later, but for now you have to live! She would want you to live!”

“…I’m already dead.”

The words stunned him, made his hands nearly falter away as if Armin had burned him. Instead of pulling away, Levi felt rage swirl from the bottom of his stomach. It rose like bile, poison and something putrid that made him want to explode into violent action and when he glanced up, he saw her. Annie was raking large fingers through the hole, pushing debris away as she looked over the destruction.

He saw them. Saw their bodies. Saw her body.

Felt the same rage fill him. Make him see red. Make him want to rip blood into the air, sink blades into those wretched blue eyes of hers and keep the promises of torture he had pressed over her scalp so long ago into a more horrid reality than ever before.

Twice this bitch had taken his squad, his family, and left them in ruins.

_Fool me once…_

Twice, she had ripped his happiness apart and for all he knew—and wished most fervently against—Mikasa could be taken from him… just like Petra…

The rage rose, it rose like a hurricane. He wanted her blood. He would avenge his comrades, he would avenge Petra, Auruo, Erd, and Gunther. He would avenge Historia and all those she had killed with a smile. He would make her blood spill if it was the last thing he would do.

But he couldn’t do this by abandoning Armin to the fate of despair.

_I’ll come back for you, Titan Whore._ Levi thought loathingly and tore his narrowed eyes from the gaping hole and back toward Armin.

“I’m sorry for this,” Levi said once. Armin glanced up, eyebrows furrowing before his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The strike was hard enough to knock him out, and it would bruise, but a bruise was better than certain death. Pushing him over his shoulder, Levi let out a sharp grunt (kid got heavy in the past few years) and set his jaw. Hoisting himself back on his feet, he secured Armin over his shoulders. One arm gripped the unconscious man’s arm, the other held to his legs and with a determined huff of air, Levi began to move as quickly as he could around rubble and death.

As he ran, Levi listened.

He listened to each scream and wail that pierced the dirt covered air. He listened to each cry and supplication, each shout for help and each howl of pain. He counted each one.

He counted each body he saw, each puddle of blood, each pair of eyes that stared emptily into nothingness. He counted and kept count, kept the tally clear in his mind.

He kept counting long after he had finally made it through the exit of the escaping throngs of the injured and frightened. He counted each wound, each life taken. The number flew, kept flying and in the dark of Levi’s mind, he gave that number swords, and prepped it for battle.

One way or another, Annie would taste his blade and vengeance.

It has long been overdue.

* * *

There was a vicious ringing in the back of his head. Some kind of pulsing and agonizing press of  _something_ on his arm and back… For a long and disorienting moment, he had no idea where he was. The ringing continued, spreading through his head and down his neck, tightening jaw muscles to such an extreme, the thought of his teeth shattering passed… and faded.

The air stunk of metal and rust. The scent of rock and dust shoved knives up his nostrils and made breathing feel like a brush with death, but something kept him from allowing himself to fade to the deep recesses of his mind. _So tired… just sleep._ But, he couldn’t.

The ringing grew louder, his body vibrating in erratic rhythms and a sudden press against his spine made everything slam back into a reality he wasn’t entirely prepared for. The sensation was not unlike being thrown in a pool of syrup only to be yanked out of its hold, and as Erwin struggled to right himself in the situation, his mind still felt like it was dripping with molasses. Sluggish, slow, muddled…

When he came too, his eyes were tearing up, blinking rapidly and feeling grit stab in tiny prickles. A fierce cough shook his chest, scraping at his throat and forcing his head forward. He winced, and when he looked down, realized why his arm was being squeezed in a vice of pins and needles.

A dark head of ink-black hair rested on the crook of his shoulder, further south he saw slanted eyes—closed—a thin, button nose and plump pink lips. The scar under her eye was bruised, while another cut (almost perfectly placed on the opposite side of her face) now marred the skin. Blood had once flowed freely, now oozed slowly and stained her cheek and dribbled into her hair.

_Mikasa…_

Erwin looked up and tried to see where they were, and gasped. Just hovering above them sat an immense piece of broken wall, a jagged edge of window hung above his head like a menacing stalactite. Blue eyes peered away and back down at the unconscious woman in his arms. Slowly, he rose an arm, hissing out in pain when his elbow sent jolts of white hot agony up his arm and neck. He could still move it, so it must’ve been bruised. Erwin began to seek out a pulse, not able to hear her breaths through the dust falling and crashes still moving around them.

Trembling fingers finally met the junction of her jaw and throat, seeking the soft spot of her pulse and when he found it, Erwin held his breath. A moment passed, then another…

Finally he sighed, relieved when he felt her heartbeat, steady and strong.

“You wouldn’t let a disaster kill you even if you tried,” He chuckled and let his hand roam down her collar and beneath her breasts. It was safe to bet her dress was ruined. The fabric was completely torn and filthy from top to bottom, ripped by her hip and legs. All over her open skin he could see numerous cuts and bruises, gashes that bled and stained her clothes and made her look close to death.

Her knees were skinned, her elbows and palms bleeding. There was a particularly long gash that spread on her back that worried him, but Erwin knew that they wouldn’t do any better if they didn’t get out from under this piece of rubble.

It was a miracle they even survived… but at this point, Erwin stopped counting miracles.

None of this should have occurred…

“Who could’ve done this…?” He muttered to himself, but let the thoughts perish as he looked ahead and tried to find a way out. When he moved, he felt the sting on his spine shoot back up and he let out a short cry of pain. _The hell?_

“…Erwin?!” the Commander’s head shot up, nearly hitting his skull on stone before searching for the source of the voice. He glanced up and saw a pair of legs, shoeless and bloodied, but looking alright.

“Down here!” He croaked and let out another sharp cough, his back screamed in protest.

Those legs moved and appeared around the boulder pining him down. Craning his head up he felt his heart settle easily in his chest. “Rico…!” He breathed, happy to see she was alright. Bloodied, bruised and cradling her shoulder, but alright. Silver eyes met his, mirroring the relief he felt and saw a small smile light its way through her lips.

“Thank God,” she muttered before moving closer. “I thought you died! I saw the boulder land on you and Mikasa. You should be dead.”

Erwin shook his head, grimacing, “Nope, I’m very much alive. We both are.”

Rico nodded, before ducking—another crash filled the room, someone screamed and suddenly the crashes shook the ground… then again… then again… each time fading with every passing moment.

“What’s happening?” He asked, trying to lift himself to his elbow. The pain on his back intensified, narrowing to a specific point and making him bite down to hold back from screaming.

“The Titan,” Rico spoke again, her voice coming out harsh and filled with venom. “It’s leaving.”

Erwin narrowed his gaze, feeling something drip down his forehead, whether it was blood or sweat, he didn’t know.  “Did she grab anyone, do you see her?”

Rico’s eyebrows furrowed before she straightened and looked around the stone, after a moment she returned, shaking her head. “She got away. I can’t tell, but… it looked like her hands weren’t carrying anyone.”

Erwin nodded, sighing while his brain worked to understand Rico’s report. The pain was too much, making it hard to think, to breathe… he needed to get out from under the boulder. “How hurt are you?” Rico’s voice came again. Erwin focused on his body for a second. Legs felt fine, as were his toes… his hips were aching and his back was seriously in pain… but all else… he was fine.

“Mild,” Erwin grunted, trying to shift further, but stopped when the pain on his back shot up, shooting pain through his legs and making them feel strangely numb. “I think something happened to my back…”

Rico’s eyes widened, “Can you move?”

He nodded, “Yes, I should be able to…”

The silver haired woman gave another sigh before glancing down at the woman in his arms, her eyes narrowed, “She’s not…?”

“No, no,” Erwin shook his head, feeling several strands of his hair fall over his forehead. “She’s unconscious. I was able to shield her through most of it.”

Rico nodded again before kneeling down and moving gingerly toward them. Erwin watched, strangely fascinated with the way her eyes gleamed, serious and determined, the way her silver hair fell around her cheeks. Up close, he could see her lower lip had been split, and made the bit of flesh burn an angry red. Rico’s tongue darted out over the wound as she moved close enough to grab on to Mikasa.

“Alright, let’s get you two out of here…” Rico said, her hand reaching over to them. Erwin extended his arm toward her, nudging at Mikasa’s head as he tried to reach, but something must’ve happened because no sooner did their hands brush that a stream of dust fell over them. Rico flinched, glancing up at the rock that encompassed them when her eyes landed on the large bit of stone and glass that hung like the teeth of a guillotine.

She swore, urging a chuckle from Erwin’s throat. Despite this, he reached again and their fingers brushed. Rico snapped out of it and looked back at Erwin, scowling. “Erwin, I don’t think I can get you two out of here on my own.”

He frowned, and looked back up. She was right.

“No…” He sighed after a moment. “No, I don’t think so either. One of your shoulders is injured, right?”

“It got dislocated during the initial attack,” She replied, sounding so mechanical despite nursing a wound. “I managed to get it back into place before I found you… it’s still pretty useless. I don’t think I’ll be able to sustain much weight on it…”

“Can you get Mikasa?” He asked, glancing back down at the unconscious girl. Rico tightened her lips in a thin line before nodding, she lifted a hand to her glasses—one of the lenses harbored a long crack down the side—and pushed them up the bridge of her nose.

She leaned closer, pressing her weight on her knees before grabbing the nearest thing she could get to, which was Mikasa’s arm, and gave a slow pull. “Probably not the best time to…tell you…” She panted as she pulled. The raven haired woman’s body was slowly dragged off Erwin’s arm and he gave a sigh of relief when he felt the circulation return over his limb. “But…I sent your… little message along to the Commander. Not a bad little stunt.”

“Not the best time,” Erwin agreed.

Rico smiled darkly, “Was that kiss of yours a stunt too or did you really mean it?”

The question made him look up at her, stumped. Rico didn’t seem to want to look at him, “Major Harke approached me… said a few things that bothered me.”

Erwin felt a surge of panic nearly fill him—there’s no way she saw him and Hanji. The last thing he needed was Rico refusing to work with him because of his relationship with the scientist—schooling his features, Erwin let his eyebrows fall into a scowl. “What things?”

“I believed I asked a question first…” She said, and her lips turned into a smile that was both lovely and biting. He didn’t think that was even possible…

Erwin bit down on his lip, feigning pain as he tried to gather his mind enough to give her a proper answer. _Should I lie, or tell the truth?_ But… what was the truth?

He would be lying to Rico if he said that he had meant to kiss her, to demonstrate sentiment… but, he would be lying to himself if he said that it was merely a ruse. Perhaps, it had started off that way. But… after losing Hanji, was it so bad to have something to lean against? Rico hasn’t been a bad support so far, in fact, she’s been nearly exactly what Erwin needed to cope against the solitude and the loneliness.

That realization alone nearly made him feel sick to his stomach.

“I meant it,” He said, and thought the words would come out monotonous, empty. Instead, they didn’t, they carried some kind of emotional weight that actually sounded genuine. Rico didn’t seem to expect this. He didn’t either. “I wouldn’t use you like that, Rico…” _see that… that was the lie._

Rico paused for a moment, staring at his blue eyes as if she were trying to tell apart the truth from the lie. She kept going, dragging Mikasa’s unconscious frame until she could wrap her arms beneath the girl’s underarms. To his relief, the matter seemed to have been put to rest as she said nothing else.

That is… until she looked back into his eyes, “I sent your message within the book I had.”

“Did you read it?”

“No.”

He didn’t expect her to, but something in the way she met his gaze made the word feel easy… too easy being spoken. He had no choice but to believe her, for now.

“Thank you, Rico.” He said and just like that she pulled away enough to disappear out of sight for a moment. Several minutes later a large group of soldiers appeared at Rico’s insistence. By then, Erwin had dozed off, his head aching while the soldiers hoisted and shoved the boulder up and away just enough for him to get dragged out. When his back met open ground, he breathed out a sigh of relief that turned into a cry of pain.

“What’s wrong?!” One of them shouted and Rico was at his side in moments, pulling him to see. At that point, he was seeing in splotches and his breathing felt more laborious. All he saw was the way her face darkened.

“He’s wounded.” She stated. “We need to get him into the infirmary immediately. Get a stretcher, and one of you find me Captain Levi!”

“What about Ackerman?”

Ackerman… _“Don’t tell them, Erwin.”_

_“You should tell her.”_

_“I don’t need that brat clinging to me like she clings to Eren.”_

_“She’ll find out sooner or later.”_

_Levi’s eyes narrowed, “Then let it be later.”_

So strange… of all memories to bring up… why that one? Erwin didn’t know, finding it harder to stay away even as he felt Rico’s hands hold to his shoulders, caressing his back in soothing strokes. _She believed me._

“Her wounds are not as serious, but I’m not liking that bump on her head. One of you take her up, find the Lieutenant in charge of the infirmary and explain the situation… I’ll wait here with the Commander, but we need that stretcher now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Footsteps came and went, and Erwin let his eyes fall close, feeling cold and numb and the way Rico’s hands rubbed his skin even as he drifted. In the dark of his mind, Erwin could hear them. He could still hear the wailing. It reminded him of his mother.

* * *

There was a buzzing in her ears… like a roar of angry bees, or the sound of trees being whipped about in a flurry of wind and rage. Her skin didn’t prickle with the stinging of pain, and her hair remained still beneath her scalp, nevertheless the roar did not cease. Despite all predisposition and evidence to the contrary, she could feel the urge to wave her arms around her to dispel the angry insects from tearing into her flesh. It seemed like the most sense of reasons as to why she kept hearing such a horrid sound.

It didn’t occur to her until later, that she should’ve been concerned more about the fact she couldn’t see… or that her body felt like it had been thrown several times against a cement wall.

When it did… All Mikasa could do was scream.

She didn’t remember how long she screamed, only that her voice grated on her ears as much as the roaring in her head did, and when she did feel like her body was being touched, she tried very hard to fight back.

There was just… so… much… pain.

Voices came, and voices went, finally her body seemed to remember what hands felt like, and clothing.

“Get them off, please!” She howled, wondering why these bees seemed to care more about holding her down than stinging her. Voices… just voices… and suddenly, they weren’t bees anymore. The bees were gone, the whipping was gone.

“Mikasa,” She heard, clear as day and clear as everything that made sense and was right in this perfect, cruel little world. She could feel his hands on her skin—like a balm to a burn. Feel how they grasped at her face, her neck—lifting her head to press her forehead to his (because she _knew_ it was his. Desperately, she let her hands do the searching for him, even if her eyes could not.

“Levi,” Mikasa nearly sobbed with relief. “Levi, Levi… Levi…”

She could breathe his air, smell his scent, rough and bloodstained, but still refreshing and safe. He was close, breathing in slow patterns that lured her into following, like when her blood was rushing and he knew she needed to relax. In just moments, Mikasa could feel the pounding and the roar settle in her skin and cool down to a slow simmer—the only simmer that counted.

“It’s alright,” He spoke again, she trusted him. She couldn’t see, and she trusted him.

“I can’t see…why…?”

“Hanji’s people…” He began, his thumb caressing the apples of her cheeks in rhythm with his words. “Some of the dust in the explosion got in your eyes, they said. They had to put a solution in your eyes to avoid infection and help them heal. They said this is normal. You’ll be alright.”

She believed him. It was all she could do.

“What… what happened, how long have I been out?” She spoke again, her throat expelling words with a fierce croak that made her wheeze. He pulled away for a moment and she missed his absence instantly, but when he returned, he was lifting her head and pressing a smooth surface to her lip and pressing water down her parted mouth. The liquid was as soothing as his presence, calming the last of her hysteria and granting a clarity she desperately needed.

It was a curious sensation; the way the water rushed from her mouth, down her throat and into her belly. It was soft, like cool fingers running down through each worn fiber and nerve ending.

“Annie hit and run our little wedding.”

“…Wait, we…?”

“Armin’s wedding, Mikasa.”

She nodded, lifting a few digits to caress his face. With each lift of muscle, a sharp ache followed, but it didn’t matter to her. She wanted to touch him.

“I know that. I meant…” She paused, scowling when her fingers met a long strip of gauze spread against his cheek. “You’re hurt.”

“A scratch,” she could feel his breath hit her lips as he chuckled mirthlessly. “Hardly reason enough to get a cot all to myself. Besides, now we match.” Her lips twitched in an amused quirk, more so when his index finger found the ridge of scar below her right eye and traced it softly. It was hard to ignore his twisted sense of humor, even now he could make her smile.

“I could scoot over if you want.” Levi gave her a short grin; she knew, she could feel it in the way his fingers moved across her face and the way his nose brushed hers.

“You need to rest,” he replied, his breath grazing closer to her lips when she felt him tilt his chin forward before her lips were being pressed against in a tight kiss. Warmth rushed through her body at velocities that rivaled and matched the high she got from flying through trees. When he pulled away, she wanted nothing more than to pull him back against her. “Besides,” he added and she could feel the smirk growing against her mouth, “You’re still mad at me.”

“Not anymore…” She whispered in return, hands trembling. “God, I almost lost you…”

“It will take more than a simple building crumbling down to rip us apart,” he kissed her again and effectively silencing the growing hysteria the revelation brought. “I didn’t fight you and the rest of the world to lose to a flying piece of debris, got that? Anyway, what _did_ you mean?”

Mikasa didn’t say anything for a moment, just savored the feeling of his thumbs brushing away the stray tears that escaped her defenses and fell down her temples. His question confused her until she remembered the train of thought that had been derailed by the discovering of his new face wound. A breath filtered in her lips and he was pulling away. A wave of strange exhaustion flowed through her muscles, stopping any movements of protest, but his hand had found berth against hers and so her protests fell with a single sigh.

“I meant,” She said, clearing her throat. “Annie—a woman we were convinced was dead—punched a hole through this wedding, my best friend’s wedding, and we just…” his hand gave hers a soft squeeze, and even though she was still seeing dark, she shut her eyes. “…We’re better than this and we froze. Now, we’re stuck cleaning up bodies and rubble while she’s…”

There was a moment of silence, pressed between their palms and hidden in every breath they shared. After a few seconds, Mikasa was able to fully recognize the roar that had bothered her previously; it was simply the chatter and far off cries of fellow victims of the attack, echoing behind the closed door of her current location… where was that anyway?

“We’re going to get her,” Levi swore, softly and almost inaudible over the distant cries of the physically and emotionally wounded. It was at this moment that Mikasa could feel a tingling in her eyes and when she blinked open, she could already begin to notice shapes, blurs, and the faint hint of color. Relief poured through her at gaining the slow grasp of sight, but the dark tone of Levi’s declaration dampened whatever inkling to anything more may have brought. She turned her head, just slightly to face the direction of his voice, scent, and presence. Through the thick soup that was the slow return to her vision, Mikasa could distinguish him immediately.

His hair was skewed and sticking in odd angles, cheek covered in gauze while brushes of black and purple stained his temple, under side of his jaw, and deep into his collarbone. His clothes were worse for wear, ripped and dirtied to a state she knew would be driving him mad, yet he sat so still. Everything about him was statuesque, from his posture to the steadiness of his hands over hers. Mikasa blinked, letting eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as her eyes accepted with eager greediness what view her incoming sight was being given. While the sensation of blinking ached and even felt like she was rubbing sandpaper against her corneas, Mikasa dared not hesitate in seeing him, roaming as much as she could over his frame.

Each scratch, bruise and bandage further fed the anger already stirring in her chest. The reminder that not only was this momentous occasion ruined, but it had been done so while their pants were done and unprepared. Mikasa loathed it, loathed all of it. She knew Levi loathed it more. She could sense it in his stillness, breathe it in and let it coil violence through the strings of her muscles.

It was with a final blink that she was finally able to fully see the power of his gaze. It was not directed at her, but it faced down—this was no simple glare reflecting off the gray of his eyes. This was no look of loathing—one she had seen when they had faced off a certain Captain of Levi’s past.

If there was any time to see a titan, or a beast, Mikasa was certain that they would have properly cowered at the sheer strength of ferocity hidden within layers of ice blue and steel gray. This was the man they called the Dragon—and only fools stroke the wrath of Dragons.

“I promise you, Mikasa,” the promise was steady and spoken with the same calm she knew would only precede a terrible storm. Levi looked up into her eyes, his fingers tightening over hers as she met his gaze as seriously and as decidedly as she knew only she could give. “It is high time that bitch pay her debt in full.”


	11. Run and Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You opened up the scars again—consume me like a cancer—  
> Bringing on my wicked might, distorting all the answers, why?!”  
> – Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s inspired tracks: Damaged, from Downton Abbey; The Way, See What I’ve become by Zach Hemsey; Richat by Mark Petrie (for the fight scenes), Já, Hemmi Minn by Johann Johannsson, Deep Shadow by TTL.

Fingernails softly tapped against thin clay, picking at cracks and imperfections on the plate that sat innocently on her lap. In her hands, she held a rarity she hadn’t very often enjoyed. One hand cradled the plate, the other poised a single fork between digits and all Sasha could do was stare at the single piece of vanilla honey cake.

It was perfect. It was sliced just big enough to entertain Sasha Braus, and judging by its softness and the way the frosting stuck to her fork, Sasha was certain this would be the best damn piece of cake she will ever have. Only…

She wasn’t hungry. This was a funny thing to admit. _I’m Sasha Braus, I’m always hungry._ Strangely enough, she really wasn’t. All she could do was stare and let her fork carve trails through the pastry and watch the crumbs take up space on her small plate. Not once had she lifted a finger to lick a piece of the creamy frosting, nor had she attempted to stomach a piece of the cake.

She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

It had been two hours, just two. Four hours ago, they had all been laughing and anxious for the wedding ceremony to commence, because the prospect of festivities was so much fun to look forward to. But two hours later… everything changed. The happy event immediately became tragic and horrifying. All because of one person.

The sight of the large blue eyes peering through the window sent a violent curl of fear through her stomach, rampaging and forcing Sasha to set away her slice of cake to cover her face. Two hours…

“Hey,” the word was soft and tentative, when Sasha looked up she was surprised to see Fitz standing just a couple feet away, arm cast in a sling and several bandages and the like wrapped around his forehead and other parts of his skin.

“Oh,” She murmured, looking away and at her own leg. It, too, was covered in a cast and placed in a chair with a cushion someone had found. She had long ago changed out of her ruined dress into a long skirt and a simple shirt, but she could still smell the dust and concrete on her skin. “Hey, Fitz…”

A small moment of tense silence passed between them and a part of her hoped he would just walk away, leave her alone to tear up her piece of wedding cake and probably wallow or something. Another part of her didn’t want him to, somehow knowing that she needed some kind of company. After moments like these… it’s always best not to be alone. She had seen what happened to people who were left alone when they should have been with someone.

“You don’t like vanilla honey?”

“I love vanilla honey.”

Fitz chuckled and she felt a small smile quirk at her lips. Moving her plate she gave him enough space on her bench for him to sit on, their eyes falling down the large hallway where people were currently sitting in rows against the walls. It was so silent, save the whispers and occasional sob that reverberated through the space. Everyone was together… but they were also, each of them, so very alone.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Silence spread between them in a sort of strange, comforting lull that made Sasha feel okay to lean against the wall and stare at her leg. Finally, it seemed that Fitz had curiosities.

“Your leg broke?”

Sasha shook her head, “Sprained.”

Fitz let out a short sigh, lifting his good hand to run his fingers through his wild hair before settling on the collar of his uniform jacket—still torn and dirtied from the attack. “That’s not so bad,” He mused, sighing slowly. “Broken bones suck.”

“Your arm…?” She blinked up at him and he gave her a rueful smile and nodded. Sasha bit down on her lip and looked at the wrapped limb.

“Broke in three places,” Fitz clarified after realizing her eyes were not leaving his carefully wrapped arm. “Still, could be worse…” the very moment the words left his mouth, he winced. Sasha saw how he suddenly ducked his head, hand reaching up to cover his face much like she had done just minutes prior.

He swore and the word was so unexpected to her, she had no idea why, but it made her snort with some mirth. It disappeared as soon as it came.

“We’re not very tactful, you and I.” At this Fitz gave his own snort, bitter smile making him look older.

“Bunch of happy-go-lucky morons with an affinity for good food.” Sasha sighed and busied herself with flicking cake crumbs off her lap. There was very little left to talk about. Frankly, Sasha didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to worry about coming up with words about things that didn’t matter. She couldn’t even get herself together enough to eat a lousy piece of cake. There was too much whirling inside to really want to make sense, but Sasha knew it all down a very familiar road. That road was worn. So worn. Worn with their feet, and tears, and all the blood the world could never hope to replace. It was one that Sasha had honestly believed would no longer needed traversing through anymore, because the Titans were gone. Because their threat was supposed to be gone. Because they had been promised peace and happiness, and at the peak moment of one of those rare moments of full blown joy and contentment, it was all taken away.

It was stolen from them.

And they let it happen…

She had never felt so emotionally violated. Back during the war, the feeling had been familiar, but it had been expected because it made sense to expect it. Now… now it was just cruel. It was unfair. They had every right to believe they could live now, they could be free to live without such terrors—and just like that, _just like that…_

“This sucks.” Fitz whispered, the words echoing the same sentiment she was struggling to wrestle away. In two words, the man at her side managed to summarize the very essence of their predicament. Sasha didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She just sat there instead. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to have Fitz stay quiet. In the short years of their camaraderie, Sasha had grown to enjoy Fitz’s tendencies to speak his mind in witty slews that made people laugh. It was a comfort when there was so much seriousness. It wasn’t much comfort now.

Sasha nodded anyway, silently agreeing to the brunet’s statement and hoping she could find her piece of cake appetizing enough to busy herself with eating. Sitting here was starting to feel more and more like a mine of anxiety.

“Do you know how many people died?” She asked, not sure why she did.

“No...” Fitz responded, leaning forward to rest his good elbow on his knee. “I don’t. I think they’re still finding bodies…”

Sasha let out a little noise of understanding, settling her head to rest against the wall behind her. It was so cold, but she didn’t care. She felt so strangely numb.

“I wonder if they’ll find hers…” Fitz muttered, sounding distant. Sasha’s brows furrowed.

“Hers?”

His shoulders gaze a flinch and he hissed, gripping his arm. When he looked back up at her, it was with a weird look—one that was filling with emotion and shock. It only occurred to her that he hadn’t intended to voice his thought aloud, and he was gazing at her as if she had discovered a very intimate secret. “You don’t know,” He said after a long tense moment. Sasha shook her head.

Fitz looked away, ducking his chin, “Riza… she...” His voice was steady, yet his shoulders were not. “Riza’s dead, Sasha.”

It should have meant something to her, it should have been like a kick to her gut, but Sasha couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t. It was as if the words just hit her and then phased past her, as if they had been spoken in some other language and their meaning was completely lost and wasted on her. Sasha felt nothing, and yet despite this emotional tundra raging silence in her core, tears burned and prickled their way into her eyes before she could stop them.

She didn’t bother to after they fell down her cheeks, feeling her nose become tight and her lips quiver. She felt nothing. Surely, she did. So why was she crying?

When Fitz looked up it was with alarm, she must have breathed funny because it was the only thing that could’ve gotten his attention. “Oh, god, Sasha… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, amber eyes beginning to well with tears as she felt her body begin to shake.

“Where’s Jean?” Sasha asked, half sobbing as she clenched her hands into fists on her skirt. “Where is he, Fitz?”

“I… I don’t know.” He reached out, placing a hand on her wrist. Sasha didn’t want him touching her, but when his hand gave a firm squeeze she was wriggling her way into his arms, shaking as he let her bury her face on his shirt.

“Fitz, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Fitz.” She heaved, clutching to his jacket and letting him wrap his good arm around her. “I’m so sorry…”

“Did you know that she…?” His voice hitched in a tight choking sound, “I didn’t know… I didn’t know, Sasha. I should have and it’s too late now…” He let out a tight groan, reaching to dig his fingers in her hair as they held one another. Sasha wanted to feel nothing, wanted to pretend that the ice didn’t burn or stab her. She hoped that Fitz would realize that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know Riza had been in love with him.

Through the midst of tears, a sudden commotion drew their attention away from their sorrow. The two soldiers looked up to the end of the hallway, hearing several cries that fell on uncomprehending ears. For a moment, neither of them could understand why there were suddenly a large amount of people rushing toward the end of the hallway.

“What…?” Sasha heard Fitz mutter and with a decisive sniff she peeled herself off his embrace and began to push off from the bench. “Ah, Sasha, what are you—?”

“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” She exhaled, lifting her leg and biting down on her lip when her leg gave a sharp protest. Before she could fall, Fitz was placing an arm under hers and bracing her against his side.

“Let me give you a hand,” Fitz said softly. Sasha said nothing, but offer a short nod and let him half-carry half-lead her down in the direction of all the attention. Despite her groans of pain, Fitz never let her down and for that Sasha was grateful. Slowly, they both made their way through the growing crowd of soldiers and wounded alike, trying to peer through the heads of the curious.

“Make way! Move back, people!” She heard through the throngs, eyes widening when she recognized Moblit’s voice filter through.

“Moblit…?” Sasha murmured, trying to shove her way passed people while Fitz tried to keep her from running off.

“Whoa there…easy, Sasha.” He hissed after someone bumped his injured arm. Sasha bit her lips again, giving the brunet an apologetic look he returned with a half smile. Carefully, they limped their way past until Sasha saw Moblit’s distressed face, forehead bandaged heavily, as he tried to help usher in the rest of the crew.

It only took a few glances here and there for the realization to sink its teeth in her chest. _This is Eren’s caravan…_ “What happened?” Fitz muttered.

“Lieutenant!” Sasha called out, grimacing when Fitz gave her still bruised side a surprised squeeze. Moblit’s eyes blinked over to hers for a moment before turning his direction elsewhere. Sasha scowled briefly until her eyes fell to the rest of the injured looking soldiers of Hanji’s squad. Her stomach dropped when she saw a stretcher being pulled in.

On its surface lay Hanji, unconscious and pale. At her sides, two officers kept their hands firm against her stomach, looking focused and just as worried as Moblit appeared. One closer look and Sasha saw the blood staining their fingers through her mid drift. A sharp inhale of air ripped through Sasha’s teeth, her hand lifting to cover her mouth when she realized the state of Hanji’s injury.

“What the hell…?” Fitz gasped, lifting to the balls of his feet to get a better look.

“Oh God,” Sasha uttered, her eyes jumping to look at the second stretcher the soldiers were carrying on. This time, it was Eren. On his skin, he bore the familiar red marks and scale like burns that signified the only thing that shocked her. This time, the wounds were steaming slowly, and while Sasha was used to seeing him like this after a transformation… the sight of blood dripping down his eyes like tears wasn’t.

“Eren…” She whispered, feeling the rest of sense and reason cave to the hopelessness pouring like sludge through her veins. _Why is this happening?_

There were so many things that they had hoped… she had hoped…

But hope had died on this day.

* * *

_One hour ago_

* * *

Everything was running through a fractured slow-motion. Steam and dust had blown nearly everyone several yards away, and when she had landed, her head had struck something hard. Hanji knew exactly what was going on even though her body was slow to process it. It took the majority of what felt like a long while to push herself up to her elbows, trying to make sense of what she was looking at—grass—and trying to make sense of why it all happened. What had caused it all…? Blinking blearily, Hanji turned her gaze up, and up, until she saw the crown of dark brown hair moving with the wind and the sharp, pointed ears that rose through the locks. Gritting her teeth, Hanji pushed herself to her knees, and the sight alone had been enough for her body to catch up to the rest of her train of thought.

Eren had transformed.

“Eren!” She shouted, groaning when the result made her head pound. Wincing, the scientist pushed herself up to her feet. Again, she cried out his name, but the Titan remained unmoving. It stayed, standing, body towering still as its eyes remained grounded in one direction. Again, Hanji called his name, hoping to reach him, but all she got was a simple ear flick and lack of acknowledgment.

“Major Hanji!” She heard and turned around, Moblit jogged up to her, covering his forehead with a hand, beneath his digits she could see the familiar stain of red smear on his skin.

“Moblit, you alright?” Hanji took a step to him before Eren’s Titan took a sudden step forward. All eyes went to his immense figure, the Rogue Titan was rearing his head back, taking a huge inhale. It was all the warning they had to cover their ears before it let out an earth shattering roar.

“What’s happening?!” Moblit shouted near her, his voice just barely making it to her beneath the thundering cry. “Why did he transform?”

Hanji set her jaw, trying to see clearly even while their ears shook with the force of Eren’s impromptu cry. Something was off… this wasn’t the Titan she had fought alongside. Suddenly, the giant turned, facing them with wide green eyes, battle cry cut short as it appraised them.

When its eyes landed on Hanji, they narrowed. Moblit let out a soft grunt, an exclamation of concern, but Hanji couldn’t pay attention to it. She was far too caught within the sensation of being under a Titan’s gaze once more. She knew it was Eren, knew that he was still in there—but there was something else altogether. An excitement and familiar rage that sparked curiosity and fire into her chest and through the rest of her bones. Hanji had almost forgotten how it felt, to feel so hatefully small under a creature that could kill you with a simple stomp…

And yet, instead of fear… Hanji felt the urge to charge nearly overwhelm her.

She had never felt so alive.

“Hanji!!” Moblit’s voice seemed to finally shake her from her stupor, his hands grabbing around her waist and elbow before yanking her to the side. An instant later a violent crash exploded where she had stood, showering them all in dirt and earth. For a second time, her back met with the ground hard. She didn’t realize she was laughing until she was choking on dust.

When the dust settled, she was scrambling to her feet, feeling adrenaline give her boost enough to jump up and look back in the direction of the explosion. The Rogue Titan slowly pulled a bleeding hand from where it had punched the ground, blood dripping from the limb before it steamed away. Before her eyes she saw how the flesh quickly repaired and stitched back together. Wrapping like threads over exposed bone and securing into muscle strands before sealing into the smooth expanse of tan skin.

Slowly the arm pulled away, and through the soup of dirt and steam, Hanji found herself once against under the violent stare of hungry green eyes and a parted maw. She could hear several cries of shock from the men around her, escalating in volume when the Titan rose its recently healed fist high in the air again.

“Major Hanji!!” She heard, but suddenly Eren’s eyes widened. His fist in the air, he paused, as if registering something no one could comprehend. Body straightening, he turned those same wide green eyes into the direction of the castle, as if in disbelief.

“Eren…? What…?” She found herself muttering. In an abrupt turn of events, the Rogue Titan doubled over for a moment before its muscles tensed. Hanji could only let out a sharp yelp of surprise before Eren’s Titan burst into a full sprint in that direction.

“After him!!” She bellowed, stumbling through a run toward the nearest horse. The animal shrieked and whinnied in protest, but she was swinging herself onto its back and spurring it forward to give chase as fast as she could.

“Major Hanji, wait!” Moblit’s voice shouted, “You need your gear!”

“Bring it, just hurry up!!” Hanji shouted over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on Eren’s running frame as it hurried away. Teeth clenched, the red headed scientist tried to think of all the reasons for this sudden transformation, gathering up all the variables that would lead to this result. _Was it the experiments? Was his body pushed hard enough that the healing jumpstarted too strongly? Or… could it be that there is another Titan alive?_

_But, if so… why was he heading toward the Castle?_

Leaning forward, she whipped the reins, urging the horse to hurry on faster. The animal gave a sharp grunt, kicking its hind legs angrily and almost bucking, but Hanji reached over and pressed a hand to its neck, “Steady, steady…” She urged as calmly as she could. It helped somewhat, at least it wasn’t kicking anymore…

Something was wrong, something was definitely out of place. She knew this, knew it the very second she saw Eren collapse from his horse. He had thrown himself on his back the moment his body struck the ground, eyes wide and unseeing as he thrashed and his body seized. It frightened her, seeing him react so violently when it had never done so before. Even when the men had gotten close enough to attempt to restrain him, all Hanji could do was try to get him to look at her and tell her what was going on. After moments of sharp groans and pained yelps, Eren suddenly began screaming.

She had no idea what was wrong with him, but the moment his screams ended in a rapid switch to silence, she knew that they needed to stay far away from him. All she got was him trying to force his name through his teeth and she was scrambling away as far as she could.

Still, the explosion had left them thoroughly crippled—the amount of damages to the area and their equipment put a damper on the amount of control they had. Even so, Hanji wouldn’t allow it to stop her from pursuing the truth and find a way to stop Eren from doing something he truly would end up regretting.

Several minutes of hard riding, Hanji’s mind continued to spin. Possibilities and alternative theories jumped up and died as quickly as the breaths the animal beneath her expelled; there was too much information missing to come down to an accurate explanation, and all she could do at this point was to see where Eren was going.

Hanji had expected an answer…

She just didn’t expect it so soon… or how it did.

The signs became apparent not long after it all came together; the Rogue Titan’s body slowing down for a moment before taking off at a harder pace, letting out sharp roars that sounded like attempts at speaking. All in all, she was too far away to truly tell what was going on… until she heard it.

At first, she thought it was the howl of wind. Some kind of trick of the air hitting her ears… but then she heard it again.

Hanji’s insides froze.

The earth beneath her horse shook, echoing tremors that were not consistent with Eren’s massive footfalls. All manner of logical thinking and rapid critical stirring died the instant her eyes beheld the incoming figure. Blonde hair… armored skin and exposed muscle tissue…

“ _It…_ ” Hanji gasped, feeling the cold wind pierce through her clothes and freeze the very blood under her skin. “It _can’t_ be…”

It was.

“Annie…?”

* * *

_I know that sound…_ I know it. I know it…

Somewhere… deep within the recesses of anger and violence, reason still stood its ground. It was small and it was weak, but it was standing and it was seeing everything. It took so long to understand why his body was moving without him wanting to, trying to understand the pair of brown eyes and the glasses that tickled his memory and made him feel so strangely weird whenever he saw them.

He thought he didn’t like it… and so his body assumed the pair of eyes needed to be squashed. It made sense… in a most bizarre way. It wasn’t any different than wanting to kill an insect or a rodent. It was looking at him funny… and so it had to die.

Ah… that hurt. Did it hurt? Reason beheld the way his hand regenerated after striking the ground, seeing that pair of brown eyes stare up at him.

Just kill it.

He almost did…

Until…

He heard it. _I know that sound… I know it._

And in that moment, Eren was breathing through large nostrils, feeling the green eyes of his power expand in surprise as it reflected the very emotions pulsing through his chest. It was almost overwhelming, the sheer and unadulterated force of disbelief, shock, and hope all clashed together in his chest. He knew that sound. _I know that sound._

In the distance, he had heard it. It was a roar. A screech… like some kind of call…

_It can’t be, right? It can’t be._

**_Find it._ **

So he turned and he ran. All he could do was run, he had to run. He had to forget the brown eyes, ignore the urge to slap them away, because the sound reminded him too much of a pair of blue eyes. Those were the only ones that mattered. Yet, Reason spoke again. _Can’t be. She’s dead. They never found her body, she couldn’t have survived._

But he had heard it! She was alive! Why else would he had heard her call for him… he knew it. He had heard her before… had fought her and listened to her screech and bellow…

As his body moved, so could he feel the euphoria of sensations make battle with the pain of hoping against hope. _She’s dead._ **Find her.** _She can’t be alive. **Find. HER.**_

_“S-sorry!” Eren had exclaimed, pushing himself away as fast as possible. Hand rising to press against his mouth, he saw her do the same, watch him with wide blue eyes and rubbing slender fingers over plump lips, bruised after the force of which his mouth had collided against them._

**Find her.** _She’s DEAD._

**_She could still be alive._ ** _Don’t be a fool. She can’t be._

Because if she was… if there was a chance that she was…

Muscles moved harder, air blew in through teeth straight into his lungs. There was so much air… but he could see. See the trees rushing at his sides, seeing them cower beneath him as he sprinted with everything he had. He had to… because he heard it. He heard her. It wasn’t it a trick… it wasn’t a trick.

All that mattered was moving and finding out the source of that sound, to make sure what he heard wasn’t a fallacy, or something his brain made up because of stress or some bullshit reason like that…

Harder, his feet struck the ground. Faster, he swung his arms and legs forward, urging himself to move with the need to keep pushing, keep moving… keep moving.

All the while his eyes ran through the landscape ahead of him, seeing through the trees and thick foliage, trying to find a hint or a sign… anything. Anything. Keep moving. The feelings of desperate need and desire for knowing began to sour, turning into something vicious that hurt and tore through the tissues of his already weakened resolve. _Please… please…_

Something flickered in the distance, flash of… **something.**

**IS IT?**

_Don’t be idiotic._

But it could be…!

Again the flash appeared, and Eren honed in on it. Green eyes turned and focused, refusing to blink despite the harsh wind biting against his face and the hair whipping around his neck and eyes. He could feel the brown locks scratch and strike his shoulders, biting like the wind, but he dared not look away. He saw something. He was sure of it.

The myriad of green upon brown and shades of yellow and red burned against his hope, daring him to let his desperation give way to logic or reason. Damn reason. He didn’t need it. He just needed—

_Her._

She was there.

_I’m dreaming… I must be…_

But even as he ran and even as he shook his head, tried to blink away the dryness in this form’s eyes… when he looked back up… she was still there.

Blonde hair, the armored flesh and exposed parts of muscle. She moved like death itself, and through the massive and dwindling distance between them he saw her eyes. Blue… wide… and the slightest hint of a smile, manic and just as desperate as the fire surging through his veins.

_Annie…_

**Alive. Alive… Alive.**

He didn’t know what he was feeling, it was almost too much. All he knew is that he could feel the burning rise to his eyes, forcing them to dampen and let loose tears that were blown away in the wind.

_Annie. Annie._

**_Alive. She’s alive._ **

“Annie!” He heard himself wanting to shout, but it rose like a sharp roar. It shook his eardrums, but like the undeniable sight of her body sprinting toward him, it made him feel alive. More alive than he had felt in so long.

So long…

Suddenly, she let out a cry of her own, shrieking and screaming through the air and he could feel his heart jump to his throat. Wait. No…

Something’s wrong.

But… what?

**Alive. Alive… Alive. No. No. Hungry. Starving. Needing.**

Was he imagining it? No. He wasn’t. Suddenly, his steps were not as desperate as they had been. Speed lowered as he felt himself grow hesitant, felt this strange sense creep up on him the closer she got. It was finally when she was within half a mile of distance that he saw it. Like a lack of self, it dripped through the smile on her face. The strangeness, the bizarre notion of it all… Something was wrong…

The beast within him (around him) was emitting something through his chest, like some kind of warning that poked and prodded the faster she approached.

_Annie… Annie what is… Annie…?_

And then… it hit him. It hit him hard.

Heels crashing against the ground, he felt the earth beneath him shatter, stopping as hard as he could because he didn’t understand. Why? How?

He knew that stare. He had seen it on so many faces. Saw it on the face of the Smiling Titan that took his mother with a simple snap of hands and a chomp of wretched teeth. He had felt that same look echo in his own eyes, felt it take over when he had become overwhelmed with violence and hatred.

This was hunger.

This was a starvation that would only be sated with blood and death. 

**_She’s not there anymore._ **

The Female Titan let out another shriek, like a hysterical cry and before Eren could even think of registering why she did what she did, or how she did what she did, she was lunging for him. A sharp whistle yanked its way into his ears, eyes watching how her fist pushed into the air before careening toward him. Eren only had enough time to pull away just enough to narrowly avoid the punch that was aimed for his face. Like clockwork, he saw her other hand lift to fly another jab, this one aiming for his chest. Eren ducked, swerving to the left and allowing his body to slide into a low stance.

In an instant, he looked up and from up close, he saw the craze pulsing through her eyes. Blood lusting and thirsty, Annie’s lips parted into yet another horrid grin. It made him feel so cold.

With a quick leap, Annie spun in the air, muscles pushing into a blur before one of her legs was slicing through wind and air, heading straight for his side. In his shock, Eren could do nothing but throw his elbows down, trying to block most of the force that slammed into his body with a thunderous crash.

The pain shot through every fiber in waves, shoving the wind clean from his throat and pushing saliva through his parted teeth. _What is…?!_ It was enough to rattle his bones and twist his equilibrium. Eren was tasting dirt as his body followed to shove of Annie’s kick. For a moment, he slid and spun on the ground, uprooting trees and scattering earth in a plume of dust.

She was on him before he could attempt to correct himself into an upright position. With a swift kick, Annie was drilling into his side, so powerful he felt blood rush with the same ferocity through his stomach to flood his mouth.

_“Get up, Eren.” Annie had grunted, brushing blond bangs from her face and peering cold blue eyes down her nose at him._

_Get up._

Eren pressed his hands against the ruined earth, spitting up blood and feeling her leg connect to his stomach a second time. This time, he was ready. Quickly, he let his arms wrap around the limb, digging his fingers into her muscle and tendons. Annie let out a sharp exhale that sounded like an exasperated grunt and he almost let go because of how much it reminded him of the time he had done the very same. _Not… yet!!_ As expected, Annie lifted her other leg—meant to stomp against his exposed side—and Eren saw his chance.

Sharply, Eren spun in the other direction, dragging Annie’s leg with him and forcing her to collapse on her back. She let out a cry and Eren was scrambling up to his knees. He grabbed her leg when he saw her attempt to do the same and pulled. With another earth shaking crash, she was on her back again, teeth bared.

_Get her._

**Beat her.**

With a leap, Eren’s knees were colliding on either side of her hips, forcing her down. He dodged a wild punch, and following the movement he was able to catch one… two... both of her wrists and pressing them tight against the ground.

This isn’t Annie… _This can’t be Annie._ Eren gasped, watching the titan beneath him thrash and struggle, kicking her feet behind him and trying to pull him off. This was wrong. Annie would’ve never allowed him to get her on her back, she would have never punched first.

What is happening?

But it was Annie, he was sure of it. He was sure of it when he met her eyes and felt her kicks. _How can this be Annie and not be Annie…?_

Suddenly, Annie was screaming again, roaring and shrieking with everything she had. Blue eyes met his, wide and strangely empty… like an animal’s or some kind of dumb beast… The more he stared the more he felt his hope begin to die. This was Annie… but not Annie.

In a shocking turn of events, he saw her bite down on her lip. Blood burst from the wound and before he could think anything of it, she was spitting the steaming heat into his face. It burned him and it was enough to make him drop his guard for a half a second. _Shit!!_

It was more than enough time for her to flip him on his back. Earth met skin and Eren let out a strangled groan, wheezing when he felt her body slam on his stomach. Instincts took over and his arms shot up to protect his face and head, hoping that she would direct her attacks on his chest or something else…

But… no hits came. All he heard was her screams and roars.

Blinking, Eren peered through his forearms, seeing her hover over him as she roared and shrieked into his face. Blood and spittle struck the scathed skin of his arms, steaming and running through flesh as he tried to understand. _What are you…?_

Annie continued to scream, her arms resting on either side of his head and he could hear her fingers rip into the dirt at his sides. Slowly, he turned his head toward her, trying to discern the strangeness in her eyes, the sounds she was shouting. The instant his eyes made perfect contact with hers, she stopped everything.

Silence spread between them and cautiously, Eren lowered his arms to try to see her better. Just like that… she had stopped. Her eyes half falling away from his, Eren felt his heart fall as she pulled away for a moment, resting her weight on his stomach. Wind blew against them, pushing away the dirt that had risen through their scuffle, and ruffling the strands of blonde hair upon her head. In awkward breezes, he felt the same wind push cold tendrils through his scalp and shoving locks of brown over his eyes, but he dared not move. How could he possibly attempt to… wait…?

Wind shoved them through what felt like moments slowed to eternities. He was caught by the blue of her eyes, the devastation coursing deep within the surge of heat within her body. It took nearly an entire length of thought for him to realize exactly what he was seeing. Only, his mind went blank when she blinked and looked deep into the green of his gaze. Because, all of a sudden, Annie was leaning down. Her face approached his, never breaking the contact now thoroughly and unbreakingly established between them and for the seconds that followed, Eren had forgotten his very name.

Annie’s head slowly pressed against his, foreheads touching as her eyes slid close and his arms pulled away to hang in shock above his head. Her hands remained at his sides, as if she were bowing in some form of reverent respect above him. It was only them, skin touching in these forms and yet, despite all common rationalization to try to get some form of answer from her—to get out of these blistering bodies and to finally talk face-to-face—Eren could only let his own eyes slide close, struck with the freight train of relief that struck him dumb when he registered the fullness of her presence.

“ _E... Ere…n…_ ”

Green eyes snapped open, wide and stunned. Annie pulled away and before Eren could so much as try to understand what she had just done, the Female Titan was lifting a fist and slamming it with vicious intensity against his jaw.

Eren was thrown back into a vacuum of pitch black, heat, and the tumult of emotions that exploded in the pain of her punch.

* * *

“STOP HER NOW!!”

The sound of wires bursting through the air amidst the sharp hisses of gas spread around them. Hanji grit her teeth as she tied down the gear around her hips, watching soldiers shoot off into the air and attempt to engage the massive Titan hellbent on tearing her opponent’s head off. Hooks dug into trees and hot armored flesh, bodies swinging into the air with the ease of birds taking off into the sky.

Horse breathing hard beneath her, Hanji targeted her hooks onto the Fallen Rogue’s body. “Distract her! I’m going to get Eren!”

“Major, no!” Moblit’s voice shouted behind her, fading as she squeezed the triggers hard and waited for the violent yank that would send her airborne. Sure enough the pull came, plucking her from the back of her horse. Wind whipped at her from all directions, forcing her hair back and tugging her cloak to flap angrily behind her. The sound of gas tearing behind her was the only thing that rivaled the howl of air in her ears, her eyes honing on the massive fingers destroying the head of the Rogue Titan.

Those same fingers suddenly tore through skin and blood, lifting quickly to grab the wires attached to her body. Hanji nearly seethed when she saw her men let out horrified cries before being slammed to the ground in a burst of green, brown, and red. In a split moment, blue eyes fell directly on her, jumpstarting the sensation of fire only loathing could ignite. Hanji let out a vicious snarl that bordered on a hysterical laugh. Gone was the usual curiosity and fascination that made her actions lean toward the scientific—Hanji truly wanted nothing more than to rip right into this Titan’s body.

A hand swung down, meant to catch Hanji mid flight, but the woman was spinning her swords in her hands before squeezing the trigger. With a swift maneuver of her lower body, Hanji swung her body to arc around Annie’s extended digits, before letting the steel slice into those same fingers.

Blood burst in a squirt of heat, slapping her in the face and pushing through Hanji’s lips. High on the velocity of danger, the crazed scientist slammed her fingers down on her triggers, catapulting faster through the air to finish severing the fingers off Annie’s hand.

The Female Titan recoiled her hand, letting out a strange shriek of what Hanji thought was agony. Feet landing on Eren’s chest, the redheaded woman waste no time and hit his body running. At a sprint she quickly hurried to reach the other side of Eren’s neck. With a leap, she was flying again.

“MAJOR!” Someone screamed.

The sound of air breaking with a sharp whistle was all Hanji could register as a warning. In a moment of mad instincts, she flattened her body feet first in the direction her wires pulled her, just barely missing the other hand that was meant to slap her out of the air.

Hanji pushed her knees to her chest, effectively spinning and changing the trajectory of her flight. Hooks released and rushing back to her sides, she flew high in the air. Brown eyes met manic blue in the space of a breath and a single thought.

 _Is she… ?_ Nanoseconds passed before Hanji was shooting a hook in Annie’s direction. The wire shot passed the Titan’s neck into the tree behind. As expected, Annie was lifting a hand to cover the base of her neck, shooting Hanji a black stare. With a sharp cry, the woman let a smile spread over her lips and she squeezed a trigger. Body careening over Annie’s front, she flew before sinking her blades deep through the Titan’s collar. The smell of rust and iron bit into her nose, making the tingling in her body heighten. Spinning back to face the blonde giant, Hanji let loose her second hook to yet another tree.

Through the spinning world, Hanji was met with comprehensive glances from the surviving men. In moments, her actions spurred the men straight into action. Spinning and unleashing wires over and over until the Female Titan was caught in a web of steel and hooks, pinned tight to her own limbs.

Feet landing hard against wood, Hanji spat out the remains of heat on her tongue, turning to survey the work she and her men had been able to do. Sure enough, Annie was caught, eyes wide with surprise.

“We did it!” Someone shouted.

“Get Eren out of here!” Hanji exclaimed, gasping and wiping a sleeve over her mouth. “By no means can we allow her to take him away from us!” With a certain exhale, she let her eyes fall over to where Moblit was proceeding to run toward the neck of Eren’s titan, several soldiers were already quickly slashing through the skin to get to the inside. A fierce shudder ran through her limbs, making her hands tremble around her swords and legs feel loose and unfamiliar. It had been too long since she had felt such extreme dose of adrenaline, and the bloodlust still coursing through her veins was making it hard to think straight.

Closing her eyes, Hanji let her body slump against the trunk of her tree, breathing in the smell of pine and sycamore to try to calm her fraying nerves.

“I’ve found him!” Moblit exclaimed, grunting as steam burst in white streams around them. Hanji almost felt relief… until she looked back at Annie’s figure. She frowned… this was not was she was expecting. She had fully expected for the Titan woman to fight back against her restraints, screech and scream… anything. Instead… she was perfectly still. As if…

Brown eyes jumped straight to where Moblit stood, in his arms he carried Eren’s scalded body, blood running down the shifter’s eyes like tears. All too soon it hit her.

“MOBLIT!!” Hanji shrieked, unable to stop the explosion of strength and power that ripped her from her stance on the branch. Annie’s body had surged upwards, tearing at her restraints and wires like shredding through paper. Screams and shouts ripped through the air, and in a long weightless moment, Hanji had no idea what was going to happen next.

Something sharp and cold ripped against her belly, making her gasp out. Before she could tell what it was, Hanji was being yanked in another direction before being sent flying. The world around her spun and swirled in a blur of brown, blue, white, and green. Pain kept her from blacking out at the sheer force of her spinning alone and when she was able to reorient herself, she saw Annie’s body shake off the last of the wires. Both hands were fully regenerated and Hanji feared that she would begin to kill them all off.

But something happened Hanji had not expected. Quickly, the Female Titan stood and pushed away from the Rogue’s steaming body, hand digging into the dirt before rising and with a final glance, took off into a sprint. Hanji let out a sharp cry, angered and wanting to follow after, but the ground was rapidly rising to meet her and the pain in her belly was making it harder to see.

Squeezing triggers, Hanji tried to right herself as she fell. Stomach falling to her feet as the reversing force yanked her upwards, the redheaded scientist let out a grunt, finally seeing the blood falling from her stomach and running toward her hips and legs. Curling, the woman attempted to palm the wound, feeling the blood run slick against her palm. In a fit of desperation, Hanji shot her hooks into a nearby tree and narrowly avoided slamming into the earth.

Took close she swung near the ground and when she could not hold the hooks in any longer, she felt her feet clash against the dirt. Crying out, she could do nothing as the force threw her off her feet to slide and roll viciously on the ground. Somewhere along the line, her head had whipped back, skull smacking hard against rock with a sickening thud until finally she dragged to a stop.

Trembling fingers tried to press against her stomach, feeling the fullness of the injury and the gaping gash that was slowly sapping at her life. Coughing, she felt hot blood run cold, unable to move as her body tried to cope with all this stress. _Shi… shit…_

Hanji slowly lifted her head, eyes landing on the quickly speeding figure of Annie’s escaping form. Vision blurring, all she could register was the sight of blurry shoes and legs rushing closer to her, before Moblit’s face appeared above her, crying out something she couldn’t identify.

“Er…Erwin…” She murmured, feeling the last of her energy give to the pain that encompassed her.

* * *

The blue had bled from the sky. Shoved from its rightful place, bruised reds and purples stretched against the dying orange and yellows the sun cast upon the tragic shade of the Survey Corps castle. Silver eyes watched in silence, waiting for news, as she appraised the way the wind pushed and left all alone. It was as if the rest of the world had fallen to realize the calamity that had ripped them of all present joy. Slowly, the winds gave to the power of demanded silence. Slowly, she could see soldiers try to shake their heads from the violent emotional whiplash that struck their happy moment.

Try… and try… and fail.

With a slow sigh, Rico turned away from the fresh sunset to look into the cot of the Corp’s leader. The Aryan man remained still and unconscious, breathing evenly as his body worked to fix the damages done. Try and try…

Silver eyes crinkled as she let her eyes fall over the bandages on his arms, the gauze taped to his neck, and the bruises peppering what exposed skin she could see. He looked so unlike the man she was used to seeing. His uniform was gone, replaced by soft hospice clothes that disappeared beneath the long white sheet that covered his form from the chest down. Even his hair, usually combed back, was disheveled and fallen over his eyes and cheekbones. Deep in her heart, Rico partly wished for him to sleep a bit longer, knowing full well the way the pain of this latest attack would have on his conscience. She knew this pain, knew it when she had seen her comrades taken and killed when they were least prepared. It was as shameful as it was enraging, leaving nothing but bitter tastes and a thirst for completed vendettas.

 _“Do you honestly trust him, Garrison Dog?”_ hands clenched into tight fists in her lap, sending shocks of hard aching pain up her muscles to squeeze at her sore joints. Her shoulder had been reset only an hour prior… and it still ached like a whore.

_Rico’s eyes narrowed into metal slits, glaring hatefully at the smug expression of the Military Policewoman. “He has given me every reason to trust him.”_

_Major Harke rose a brow and an amused tilt of her lips, “How adorable. I have been told that all dogs are immediately trusting of new masters… no matter how war bitten they are.”_

_Rico said nothing, choosing to channel all her will into restraining from lunging for the woman’s neck. Butter yellow eyes blinked lazily at her, “Be wary of this man, pup. You may be able to survive in a world filled with Titans, but in a world of Men, you still have so much to learn.”_

_“Keep your idiotic advice to yourself, Major. I have neither the time nor the care to give for any of it.”_

_“I’m sure of that,” Major Harke agreed, with mock understanding. “You must be so busy being taught the trick of being a breeding dog now. Let’s hope you’re not too old to learn that one. It would be a shame… should you fail.”_

It was easy, so easy, to utterly loathe all of Major Harke’s being. Yet, despite the deep and passionate hatred the very thought of the woman brought into Rico’s veins… something in the way she had taunted her… it was as if she knew something Rico didn’t. Knew some kind of secret Rico wasn’t certain of and it frustrated her greatly.

She knew it would be idiotic to take any of that woman’s words seriously, but no matter what she did or how much she tried to assure herself that she had nothing to worry about… Rico couldn’t help but wonder if Erwin did have any secrets he was keeping from her. _Naturally, he would. Everyone keeps secrets._ It was almost hard to believe so, though. He had always answered her questions honestly and sincerely. If there had been anything Rico had not expected from Erwin, was the level of sure attention he gave her during their routine tea times and conversations. It was his eyes, they were always, _always_ , so piercing and focused…

Glancing back up, Rico found her eyes falling back over to his sleeping face. Softly, she reached a hand up to brush the golden strands from his eyes, before pausing. A sharp breath of air stopped right against her lips, her heartrate shooting up. She had never been particularly skilled in the art of romance—this much, Rico was loathed to admit the Major was correct about—and just the simple thought of touching this man’s face in such an intimate manner…

 _I’m being ridiculous._ She thought to herself, trying to summon the familiar determination that became her shield. Pushing forward, Rico finally let her fingers reach his forehead, careful not to touch his skin so much. Swiftly, she tugged the locks of hair out of Erwin’s eyes to fall back against his scalp. _There. All done. That wasn’t so bad, ri…?_ Against all she knew and wished, her eyes had traveled from his forehead and severe eyebrows, down his strong nose and cheekbones to land directly over his mouth.

His lips were somewhat pale, and even in shape. They were neither full nor thin, but despite a cut to the lower one… they looked soft. _They had felt so soft._ She could not push away the memory fast enough, and before she knew it, she remembered the way they had felt against hers. _Soft… and warm._ Now, they lay just a foot away from her. Parted so slightly, she could almost see the pink of tongue, the promise of heat.

_Have you kissed other women like you did me, Erwin? Or are your kisses more passion filled? Frantic and hurried?_

For a moment, Rico wondered what had happened if she had allowed their first kiss to deepen, to have gone further. Certainly, they would need to at one point. They would have to… but would it be a mechanical affair? Or much like she had heard other female officers speak about, hot and passionate, wonderful and pleasure filled?

It was not like she hadn’t ever had sex. Rico had. But, those were nights done in the moments of lowered inhibition and drunken state of minds. She didn’t really remember how they were, but from what she could recall, they were messy and lacked emotional closure and warmth. _Will you be cold with me, Erwin?_

Slowly, Rico felt herself drawn towards him, eyes wide and struck over the pair of lips that had pressed against hers once, and said words that both confused and thrilled her. She would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she felt something for this man. It was not love. No… love does not feel this way. _How would you know?_ But, Rico could feel an honest stirring in her chest. Perhaps it was admiration, or perhaps it was just curiosity. Whatever it was it spurred her forward. She wondered, for an instant, if this feeling would become known to her if she were to press her lips against his—to try to get something certain.

With a shuddered intake of breath, Rico allowed herself to move those last few inches, gingerly pressing her mouth against Erwin’s still lips. The pressure was faint and hesitant, but the sensation that he had left on her when he had kissed her suddenly was strangely lacking. Frowning to herself, Rico began to pull away, but froze when she felt something press against the back of her head.

The gasp that escaped her fell silent when she was pulled back against Erwin’s lips and she could feel his mouth slowly work against hers. With those soft caresses, Rico felt her body erupt into a violent fever, feeling blood pool in her cheeks and the air lodge against her throat as her eyes fell closed. She didn’t know what to do, except rest her weight on her elbow next to his head, letting the sensation of this unplanned kiss wipe her mind blank. Ever so deeply, the kiss expanded and Rico could feel something primal awaken when she felt his tongue run over her upper lip. A shiver coursed up her legs, through her spine, to pool in her chest, making her feel lightheaded.

Air coursed through his nostrils and the pressure on her head dropped to her neck, thumb caressing a sensitive area by her collarbone. Suddenly, his other hand was pressing against her ribs, in search for warmth. Rico felt her body give an abrupt jerk when that hand had traveled toward her chest, making her give a soft yelp against his mouth.

“ _Han_ …” He breathed against her lips. Rico gasped fully, mind scattering, when she felt that same hand grip against her left breast. Yanking herself away, the silver haired woman lifted a hand to cover her mouth, silver eyes wide as she saw his flutter open before landing on her. Blue eyes blinked wide, Erwin’s bruised lips parted in what seemed like an inquiry of confusion. Too quickly, she saw the light dawn on his eyes, making her feel a terrible kick of mortification.

“Rico… what…?” He spoke finally, voice hoarse from lack of recent use. He looked away, cheeks flushing and Rico could feel the weight of their actions rest heavily on her chest. The feeling of his hand on her chest was still tingling, taunting her mind and making her feel strange things.

“F-forgive me,” She spoke after an awkward pause. It was near impossible trying to rein back the pounding against her rib cage, the pleasurable tingling on her lips. “I hadn’t meant to—that was disrespectful—It won’t happen again, Erwin, I assure you.”

Those blue eyes turned back to her, watching her with something she could not discern. “Did you hear…?”

“Did I hear…?” She frowned. Erwin shook his head, quick and jerky.

“I meant… is that what you want? For it to not happen again?” The question forced her gaze elsewhere, making the ramming in her chest skyrocket. Suddenly, she had no idea what to do with her hands. Settling she sat straight against her chair, grasping to the fabric of her uniform—she had changed from the dress she had borrowed. The dark fabric had been ruined by dust and blood—and tried to steady her breathing.

“I…” She said after a moment. What _did_ she want? “No… I don’t want… that. I mean, I am not sure.”

There was another strange silence and despite all reasons not to, Rico could not stop her eyes from sneaking a glance to Erwin. To her luck, he was looking in another direction, appearing pensive. “It would seem,” He said with a slow breath. “That our relationship does appear to be escalating.”

“It does?” She heard more than felt the words fall from her tingling lips. Erwin nodded, but it was not the sort of expression she would have thought logical considering their circumstances. His face looked simply as if he were stating a fact, a piece of strategy rather than something intimate like the kiss they had just shared. And what did he mean, had she heard? Heard what…?

“This had been unintentional,” He said again, nodding slowly and still not looking at her. Rico could feel both frustration and relief at this attitude. Frustration, for reasons unbeknownst to her, and relief for treating their situation with the kind of collected composure Rico needed to reach stability. This attitude, Rico believed, was one she could definitely latch on to. It was not enjoyable, feeling so at a loss.

“Yes,” She said, arranging her voice much like his. Slow, steady. Good. “It was.”

“But… it was not unenjoyable.” This did make her feel odd. How could he so blatantly say this like it was an experience not unlike trying a new beverage, or beholding a different sight? The blush returned to her cheeks again. Brightening when he looked back up at her. “Would you agree?”

“Ah…” She let out, trying to pinpoint her composure and bringing it back to light. “I… would. Yes. It was…nice.”

The Aryan man’s gaze seemed to change, but how, Rico couldn’t say. Instead, his lips pressed into a thin line before saying, “We are expected to do this more…”

Cold bloomed in her chest at his words, the logic feeling sharp and frigid against the heat of her blood. She had no idea why, but his words upset her in a strange way. “Yes…” She didn’t know what else to say, aside from just softly agreeing.

“Rico,” she directed her full attention on him, something in his eyes looked distant. “If you wish to kiss me, you may do so at any time.”

There was no warmth or familiarity at his invitation, something that when it had been mentioned in the past between them, would have been done so with a light twinkle of amusement or shyness. This felt like an order rather than a request, and while Rico said nothing but nod in response, she couldn’t help but feel like she had gotten further away from understanding this strange man with the blonde tussled hair and broad shoulders.

Erwin nodded after a moment’s pause, and he was slowly lifting himself up to a sitting position. His arms shook and beneath the soft cotton of the hospice shirt, his muscles contracted into hard coils beneath skin. She found herself unable to look away as she saw him slowly move, broad chest lifting from behind the slipping covers. Suddenly, he let out a sharp hiss. Rico was moving before she could stop herself. This time, when her hands found his body, the familiar feeling of indifference was gone, replaced by the unknown sensation that resembled static. “Careful, your back was pierced by a long sliver of wood.”

“I…” He was panting. “I can’t feel my legs.” 

Something in her froze. “What?”

Erwin blinked and looked back up into her eyes, calm and frantic all at once.

 “Rico… I can’t feel my legs.”

* * *

This room was dark, save the dim lighting pouring through dark curtains. A cot lay near the window of the room, on it was a sleeping figure of a soldier unidentified, but at its sides stood two figures. One was large and plump, the other maintaining a figure that could belong to none other than a woman. A woman with a sharp stance and hair tied back into a tight, severe bun. Her companion was a rather large and stout man, standing near the window and peering throught the slit of the curtain and out the window.

“You asked me to come in here,” The woman spoke, voice severe and cold. “So speak.”

The larger figure shifted, through the soft lighting, unimpressive brown eyes peered up through droopy eyelids, eyebrows pulling down. “We have a problem, Major.”

“I am completely aware this is a problem.” She hissed, butter yellow eyes taking on a sharper amber appearance, narrowing like the slits of a cat’s gaze. “My men have all but been eradicated by the Titan’s attack. I was ensure this would not be a problem, that this assignment would be easy and a step to a high promotion.”

A low sigh blew through sweaty lips and the plump man was rummaging through a pocket for a handkerchief. “None of us predicted this to occur.”

“Speak for yourself or for the government, Griko.” the return was dripping with acid, stance turning hostile. “But do not try to sway me with idiot excuses. I want to know why my men died and why I have to suffer _this!_ ” a hand rose to tug down the collar of her shirt, exposing a long bandage that ran from her neck down her body, disappearing beneath the fabric. “Was this done by _them_? If so, why did they issue this attack now of all times? Everything was going according to plan!”

“The marriage of Historia Reiss to Armin Arlert had to be stopped,” the man replied, grunting with irritation. “That much we knew had to be done. We were not sure if your men would be able to suceed. Insurance had to be prepared. I expected some form of involvement… but nothing like this. My superior assured me… this level of attack was not anticipated.”

“The _fuck_ does that mean, Griko?”

Droopy eyes blinked into a full glare, “The plan was to assasinate the Lance Corporal, Major. That was what we needed.”

Major Harke bared her teeth, releasing her grip on her shirt to move to a nearby chair. Kicking it to the side, she all but tossed herself on the seat, not caring for the sleeping soldier on the cot next to them. “And my men were already stationed and ready for the kill, Gricko. Only now because you people got impatient, Instead of killing off Arlert, we have potentially killed off the Reiss woman in the process.”

“Like I said, this was not anticipated. Truth be told… I do not believe this was a planned attack.”

The woman let out a disbelieving scoff, “After all that’s happened, I’m not sure I believe you. Was this done due to a lack of confidence in us? If so, this is bullshit. Now, you either know who let this happen, or you don’t, so I would rather you tell me now. This is not something I take likely.”

“I am aware of that, Major. But, this Titan attack was not from us. _They_ did not tell us that this would occur. I understand why _you_ would be in the dark—“

“—Fuck you too, Griko.” Harke snapped.

“—nevertheless, if this had been part of the plan, I am certain I would have been told. No,” the plump man turned around, wiping his head with the handkerchief. “This was orchestrated by someone else.”

A pause filled the tense room as the two conspirators listened to the labored breathing of the groaning soldier resting on the cot. “You’re certain he will not be listening?” Griko inquired, pointing a large finger at the resting man.

“If he is, he won’t be for long.” Harke snorted, crossing her arms. “Are you suggesting that Erwin Smith had something to do with this?”

“It is a possibility.”

The Major let out a derisive snort, “Impossible. I’ve been personally intercepting what letters and information he could be sneaking out. Besides, my men have been tightlipped about our given assignments, Griko. There’s no way he would’ve been able to know about the assassination.”

Another long sigh escaped the fat man, he turned back to face the woman before taking a few steps close to her. Suddenly his hand was reaching for her jacket, roughly pulling the material away and grasping at her shirt. Harke let out a startled cry, “Hey, what are you—hands off, you sick—!”

Big fingers found the bandage and wound beneath before giving a sharp squeeze. Harke cried out, agonized. Brown eyes leaned close to her, wide and deranged with some kind of sick look of perversion. “This is what happens when you and your people are sloppy, Trika. You suffer from wounds and ineptitude. While you are in my presence, you will keep that nasty tongue of yours in check, otherwise.” He reached further south to grasp the mound of flesh roughly. Harke let out another cry, before throwing a sharp punch into her assailant’s mouth.

With shocking ease, Griko caught the flying fist before twisting and turning it over her back. Doubled over and gasping, Major Harke gritted her teeth, feeling her wound grow hot with blood. “Your job, Major Harke, from this moment on is to find out how much the commander knows. I don’t care how you get the information, you use whatever means necessary. If it means you need to tie him down and break him, then _do it._ We have grown very tired of Erwin Smith, and we want him out of the way.”

“If you want me to kill him, just say so—AH!” Griko’s hand gave her arm a sharp twist, forcing her off the chair to land on her knees on the ground.

“Pay _attention._ We do not want him dead. Not yet. No, we have very special plans for our very own Commander. But, we cannot have him privy to information that is too sensitive to be let loose. Take care of him, Harke. Get the information and report back. If you fail again, I will hand you personally hand you over to _him._ ”

Harke’s body froze at the final word, breath stopping for a moment of horrified silence. “Am I being perfectly clear?”

“Y… Yes… sir.” She spat out, groaning when he gave her arm a final squeeze before tossing her on the ground. She scrambled to her feet, turning a violent glare on the fat merchant.

“Good,” He said before looking back at the figure of the fallen soldier. “Make sure he actually dies, Harke. Last thing we need is more acts of idiocy from your part.” With a swift turn of a polished heel, the plump man was marching toward the door. The door opened, bringing in biting light from the sunset lit hallway, before it slammed back against the hinges.

Major Harke let out a frustrated growl before grabbing the chair and kicking it against the wall. Looking back at the unconscious body, she let out a thin sigh and allowed herself to sit on the cot. The bed let out a hard squeak beneath her weight, and she lifted a hand to softly press against her chest. Feeling sick and defiled, she tried to release the shaking in her fingers with a hard flick. His assault had broken through some of her stitches—she could feel the heat of blood dampen the cloth of her bandage, but it was nothing compared to the disgust and rage curling poison through her blood to crawl under her skin.

 _None of this should have happened._ She thought to herself, angrily glaring into the darkness. If her superiors wanted blood and information, she will give it to them.

And she would not disappoint.


	12. Burdens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”  
> ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter’s inspired tracks are: Sudden Throw, A Stutter, Brim, and We (Too) Shall Rest by Olafur Arnalds, from the For Now I am Winter album. As well as Something Has Changed by Peter Broderick (all these tracks can be found on Spotify in high quality—if you don’t have an account, really consider it since the majority of the songs used for tracks can be found there and they’re hard to locate anywhere else.)

The amount of time it took for silence to fully plant itself within the castle was a total of nearly ten hours since the attack. Six, of which, were spent in attempting to bring some form of control over the raging chaos—too many people screaming and wailing, too many bodies to clean up… too much shock to try to reign over—the other two were swallowed by the sound of 3DMG and gas exploding from canisters while those who were still uninjured and capable assembled to place large tarps over the large hole that now replaced the western wall of the Dining Hall. Rubble and debris was still being taken out, still shoved and moved as the death count rose.

While it was noisy, conversation was scarce and usually dominated by the attempts to make sense of the madness, the injustice of it all. Orders were given, orders were followed. In these moments of sadness, what remained of emotion had been forced into silence to make way for the machine mindset of the military. Some would remark this to be cruel—even inhuman—but when it comes down to it…

It’s how they all survived the greatest test of their existence. No one could be blamed for following what survival left imprinted.

Some died.

Some lived.

That’s how life is.

These were the thoughts that plagued the brown haired Deputy Lieutenant from Hanji’s Squad. With slow, simmering frustration, Moblit dragged a palm over his face. His fingers bumped against the gauze that surrounded most of his forehead, eliciting a faint jab of pulsing pain that dug into his already pounding head. Expelling air through chapped lips, the officer waited by the door of the operating room. Waiting for news of any kind concerning the welfare of his leader.

Stifling a yawn, Moblit rubbed his jaw, feeling the coarse skin with a grip that was harder than necessary. He had been waiting for hours now. At some point, someone had brought him a slice of cake. The cadet that had offered him the sweet food looked sullen and unable to speak aside from incoherent mumblings, Moblit didn’t have the heart in him to turn him away. Even now, his eyes fell to the plate of pastry sitting on his chair where the boy had left it. He had been unable to approach it, and so, left it there to attract no one.

_Why?_

His head gave a sudden twitch to the left, eyes squeezing shut at the invasive thought. Two fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, a vain attempt to quell the mounting stress that had already conquered his stomach and appetite. He didn’t need it driving him mad. He wouldn’t allow it.

So with a sharp inhale of air, the brown haired man pushed himself away from the wall to pace in front of the door. Shaking trembling hands with hard flicks of his wrists, Moblit tugged the limbs in his pockets—out of sight, out of mind—and settled on counting the sound of his boots striking the stone floor. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight—_ turn— _nine, ten, eleven, twelve…_

She had been wounded. He saw how her body had careened through the air, spinning nearly out of control after the Female Titan had all but thrown her with unparalleled force. The second he saw Hanji’s body shoot into the air, he felt his very insides grow ice cold. The fright that filled him nearly left him frozen to the inches of dirt next to the Rogue’s steaming head, but it was the heat of Eren’s limp body that allowed his body enough consciousness to move. With frantic hurry, Moblit had yanked the rest of Eren’s figure from the strands of cord and muscle fibers from the decaying body of his titan, before laying him down on the ground and taking off toward Hanji’s form.

He shouted several times, not sure what his words could’ve done, and watched as she used her gear in neck-snapping movements to avoid slamming into the earth. His relief for her safety nearly slowed him down, but it nearly collapsed when he saw her body strike the earth, sliding and skidding against stone and dirt with sickening thuds. _Twenty two, twenty three, twenty four…_

“Major Hanji!!” Several soldiers joined him in the sprint toward their fallen leader, many shouting orders to bring a stretcher from what remained of their caravan. By the time they had reached her, she was already out cold. Moblit nearly felt his heart give when he saw the blood running from her belly, dribbling through her fingers and blooming over her clothes.

She had been wounded, and by the state of it… it was serious.

_Thirty five, thirty six, thirty seven…_

The caravan, knowing they were not facing a battle against time, didn’t waste time picking up what dead they could get—Moblit made it clear to all of them that they would have time later to return to gather those who did not survive the Female Titan’s attack.

He had been sorely mistaken.

When they arrived to the castle it was to chaos and the destruction of a good portion of their headquarters. The horror and anger that filtered through the men was palpable, yet no one said a word aside from relaying messages and hurrying to assist in damage control. Those with Moblit helped bring in both Eren and Hanji, keeping much to themselves when questions rose and despair mounted at the news of more dead. Dutiful, Moblit ordered for Eren to be placed within Hanji’s study to sleep off the fever, placing one other scientist and officer to watch over him in case anything happened out of the ordinary. Bloody tears wiped from his face, Eren was soon taken away, followed shortly by one of his comrades.

_Forty four, forty five, forty six…_

Moblit wasn’t too worried over Eren. He had seen that boy endure impossible things and come out alive and well, so he busied himself with following the rest of the medical officers as they carted Hanji off to an available room where they would be able to tend to her wounds. There, the doctors and nurses immediately removed the blood soaked clothing from her pale skin, before ordering Moblit to wait outside.

“What do you mean, wait outside?!” Moblit had shouted, nearly shoving the hands of a nearby soldier off him. “I can assist!”

“We have more than enough people here at the moment, Deputy.” The blue eyed lieutenant, Alfons, said with a stern expression. “You’ll only take up valuable space.”

The door slammed in his face just moments later, leaving Moblit to stand at its front with a terrible emptiness in his stomach and a clenching in his hands.

Too much had been lost in just the past few hours… too much.

_Fifty eight, fifty nine…_

The echoes of leather on stone bounced against the walls surrounding him. Faint light poured through the small window that granted him a sliver of sight outside. It was just past dusk. The last of the twilight was stretching vain fingers over the rolling black of the night—Moblit was not sure whether it was respite or if it was the onslaught of fresh nightmares, so he could do nothing, but stand in silence as he watched the fading light sigh into the shadows.

He didn’t know how long he just stood, letting his mind blank out from all the rage that threatened to consume him. He had no idea what would come next, if Hanji would be survive, how much would change after this attack… all that seemed to matter was the way the stone beneath his feet went from its usual gray pallor to cyan hues reflected from the cooling light outside.

Slowly, amber tones bounced against the stone—the exposure of fire to torches being lit—and Moblit inhaled a shuddering breath. Feeling nothing, he turned toward the chair on the opposite wall, eyes landing on the slice of cake waiting for him. It sat there, icing and crumbs, innocent and uncaring. It was a shame to not eat it. So many hands went into its preparation, so much effort went into its result.

He tried to find it in him to care.

It must have been another eternity of staring before he heard the door shift behind him. Whirling, he felt his heart jump to his throat when he saw the face of Lt. Alfons, the older man appearing grave and sporting a perplexed frown.

“Is she alright?” the question was met with a curious glance before the man’s blue eyes fell to the ground again.

“She’s stable.” The breath that escaped Moblit was enough to loosen his knees and he almost fell. Alfons made a quick move to assist, hands reaching for him before Moblit stopped him with a raised hand and a short shake of his head. Straightening the officer let the relief of this revelation course clarity through his veins, but kept his eyes on the doctor.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Moblit sighed. In response, blue eyes crinkled with an uncertain expression that made the last of his relief hesitate from lifting him higher. “What is it…?”

“Deputy…” the man began, lifting a hand to run fingers through strawberry blonde hair, with a hard sigh he bit his lips. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

The worry began to rise in his stomach again, forcing Moblit to take a step closer. “What is it, Eric. Is she not waking up? Are her wounds fatal?”

Alfons shook his head, “No, not at all. The Major will survive her wounds, she will be alright… however…we discovered something,” He trailed off, looking into Moblit’s eyes curiously before setting his jaw.

“Eric, if this is a matter of urgency, just tell me,” Moblit grunted, feeling irritated at the man’s lack of straightforwardness. “If not, let me go in to see her.”

“Moblit,” Blue eyes tightened into a sharp expression. The sound of his name alone made him take pause, and the following words proceeded to knock every ounce of air out of his lungs.

“She’s pregnant.”

* * *

Steel gray eyes remained fixed on the slim figure of the raven haired beauty sleeping on the meager infirmary cot. Several minutes of tense silence between them served as nothing better than added pressure to the stress of her mind, and despite how Mikasa had struggled to keep herself awake after her sight showed signs of returning, it was not long before her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. Refusing to do any more than stay, Levi stayed sitting on the chair by her bed, watching the exhausted woman sleep her worries into dark recesses and shadowed corners only she knew the routes to.

He had wanted nothing more than to stay by her side, to watch her as she slept and enjoy the only peace that came with her company, but in the end there were far too many voices crying for his leadership. He could do nothing else but comply when he had been approached by Keiji, just an hour after Mikasa drifted.

“Captain,” Keiji had begun after a short moment of silent appraisal, eyes falling toward Mikasa’s sleeping figure before turning his narrow gaze over to the short man. “Squad Leader Brzenska is calling for you.”

“Tell her I’m busy.”

Keiji didn’t seem even remotely surprised by the retort, and this, Levi could credit to their many years of acquaintanceship. Instead, the Lieutenant remained standing by the open door, the discord of the wailing and injured serving the reminders of Levi’s duty without help from his part. Sure enough, Levi let out a slow sigh before pushing himself up to his feet, following the tall man out without another word or glance to his sleeping lover.

They marched in relative silence, only surrounded by the clatter of boots striking stone in rhythmic couplets, making the chorus of despair seem ever more present to their psyches. It was not a comfortable walk and it brought a sense of sobriety that Levi was in no way enjoying, nevertheless, he knew better than to voice such distaste, considering the circumstances.

When they finally approached the hallway were the more stable of the wounded were housed, Keiji only pointed to a room, “She’s in there with the Commander, but I was told he is sleeping.”

“What do you know of his state?” it was almost funny. Not once had it occurred to Levi if Erwin had been injured or not during the attack. His mind was all too cruelly reminded of Armin’s empty stare, downtrodden and broken by the loss of his beloved. Levi had been able to take the young man to an empty room—not caring to whom it belonged—and left him to rest on a cot. After checking him for signs of other injuries or concussion (he did hit him rather hard in order to knock him out) Levi could only squeeze the sleeping man’s arm before leaving, leaving a silent promise for retribution. Very few people could empathize with the blonde Lance Corporal. Levi was one of them.

Lifting a bruised hand, Levi rapped the door quickly before letting his hand fall to the doorknob. There was a ruffling on the other side of the door, before Levi could think much of it he pushed the door open, narrow gray eyes landing on a spectacle he hadn’t expected.

On the bed and glancing up at him, upside down and on her back, was the Squad Leader who had requested his presence. Above her, and balancing his weight on his elbows, lay Commander Erwin, blue and silver eyes looked at him with something akin to shock.

The door shut behind him with a soft hiss and click, leaving them in a startled silence that was broken when Levi’s eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. “I hope I didn’t interrupt something.”

“You didn’t, Levi…” Erwin began glancing back down at Rico’s flushing face, grimacing. _Starting to get how it looks like, huh, Erwin?_ With a short grunt, the woman quickly pushed the Commander back on the bed before scrambling away from the sheets, refusing to make eye contact with either of them.

“I was merely assisting the Commander to get on his feet…” She admitted, voice ever-so casual despite the way her hair stuck out in awkward angles. “He had wanted to try to stand.”

“I over calculated the force,” Erwin continued, coughing shortly. “I fell on top of the Squad Leader.”

“I don’t really give a shit what happened.” Levi replied with a half shrug, looking astoundingly bored, yet the dangerous gleam in his eyes never faded. “I was called. What do you want?”

Rico nodded before straightening her jacket, “Captain Levi, while it was not intended for you to walk into such a misunderstood scene as this one—“

“Get on with it,” Levi drawled.

“—it does segue into the topic that needs discussion.” She explained, lifting a hand to adjust her glasses over the bridge of her nose. With a short sigh, the silver haired woman looked over to Erwin, the blonde man being unusually silent and subservient beneath the weight of her words. With a curt nod from the Commander, Rico turned a sharp stare into Levi’s waiting expression.

“Captain. Commander Erwin has no motor control below his waist.”

Levi’s eyes crinkled into a calculative look of appraisal, turning his attention from Rico to look at his commanding officer. The words struck him with the force of a jackhammer, but he would be loathe to show it openly. “Clarify,” He stated, requesting for more information, his eyes never leaving Erwin in hope the man himself would offer an explanation.

“He cannot move or feel his legs.” Rico supplied, gaze falling to the ground with something akin to dark acceptance.

“That is not what I meant,” Levi snapped, bristling when Erwin refused to look at him directly. “How did this happen?”

“During the attack—” Rico had begun, but was quickly silenced by a black glare thrown from the short raven haired man. When those narrow gray eyes turned back toward the Commander, they were focused and keen, like the blade of a sword rising to a steady stance.

“Erwin.” Levi spoke, not caring about Rico’s shift of discomfort at the lack of title added to the man’s name. “What the hell happened?”

Slowly, Erwin lifted his hands to the handrails of his cot, pushing at them with his arms to force his body into a more comfortable sitting position. Levi did not miss the way his muscles shook, or the look of exertion over Erwin’s face, struggling with added dead weight that had not been a problem before. This was not a joke.  “During the attack,” Erwin breathed out, finally finding a place to settle. “A large boulder had fallen upon both me and Mikasa, you know this.”

“I was given a short briefing,” Levi admitted. The Aryan nodded, still keeping his blue gaze on anywhere except Levi’s rigid stance.

“Something… I’m still not sure what as they hadn’t been able to operate on me yet… One of the Lieutenants of the medical wing had explained to me that something had stabbed its way into my spine…” He trailed off leaning back slowly, hissing when shocks of pain rippled through his body. Rico gave a start toward him, but remained in her place. This did not go unnoticed by the third member in the room. “It could be a shard of glass… or rock, or wood… whatever it is. Until it’s properly removed from my back…”

“And you thought if you got up, you would magically be able to start walking around, right?” Levi grunted, not bothering to stop the vitriol from spitting through his teeth. “Did you hit your fucking head as well, or has this new level of stress turned you brain dead fucking stupid, Erwin?”

“Captain,” Rico exclaimed, affronted by this clear sign of insubordination. Erwin lifted a hand, shaking his head. The silver haired Garrison soldier stepped down, scowling openly.

“I’ve been in the cot for several hours, Levi.” Erwin explained softly, blue eyes sliding close, “Was it truly stupid to want to move around a bit?”

“Yes, it really was,” the Captain retorted, using his best patronizing tone he could muster. Rico’s scowl burned darker, but melted somewhat at Erwin’s chuckle.

“Yes…” the Commander sighed after a moment, turning his chin to finally look at Levi for the second time since he had arrived, although the expression in his eyes seemed to ignite a kind of anger in the short man’s blood that he had not felt in a while. Tension bloomed between the two men, evidence given by the way Levi’s fists tightened into fierce balls and Erwin’s glance away.

“How is Mikasa, by the way?” Erwin muttered after a particularly thick moment of silence.

“She’s fine.” Levi bit out, using the reminder of his beloved’s well being to hold him back from ripping into the taller male with his bare hands. It wasn’t often that Levi felt himself desire to beat some sense into Erwin’s thick head, but when those moments arrived they arrived with unprecedented force.

A knock at the door put pause to the black contempt brewing in Levi’s chest, and before he could make the choice to rip the door open and march out, Erwin was already calling out the invitation to enter their tense little space. As demanded, all three members of the small room glanced up, eyes widening in varying intensities when they saw the firm set of a familiar jaw.

Moblit looked over the room in a split moment, appraising them all with a flat expression. “Commander,” He spoke and Levi could already sense the news that would be coming. “I have distressing news.”

“Moblit,” Erwin greeted in a professional tone, but a quick glance told Levi he was experiencing a new kind of anxiety. “When did your team return? What of Hanji?”

Moblit’s eyes hardened, and he stepped further within the room. Without so much as a warning, the man launched into his report, “We encountered the Female Titan several cliques outside the castle at estimated 1300 hours. We sustained heavy damages and some casualties from the attack.”

Stomach falling to his feet, Levi faced the tall brunet man with undivided attention, “What of Eren?”

“Prior to the attack, he had been enduring several injuries and bodily weaknesses that refused to heal. At a strategic rest stop, he collapsed from his horse and proceeded to fall into a fit before transforming into the Rogue Titan. Not long after that, he began to head in the direction of the castle before engaging into battle with the Female Titan.”

“Hold on,” Rico spoke up, silver eyes wide behind the rims of her spectacles, “He engaged her without command? I had been told he was no longer subject to animalistic instinct in his most recent transformations.”

“The Titan that became of Eren was not one we had controlled,” Moblit enlightened. “My suspicions, and I am sure the… Major would concur, are that given this being his first transformation since the Final Conflict his body must have ‘restarted’ to previous settings. I also suspect that his coma was also cause of the incalculable stress of having retained Titan form during the time of said Conflict.”

“You said they engaged in combat,” Levi pointed out, narrow eyes gleaming from the weak light of the dying sunset. “What were the results?”

“It appeared that the Female Titan had been successful in defeating Eren, when we had arrived in for the assist, his Titan form was already dead or in the process of dying. We had had very little time to try to defeat her—Major Hanji insisted the main objective was to retrieve Eren before the Titan could try to apprehend him.”

“Where is the Major now?” Erwin asked, voice maintaining a simple inflection, yet his hands betrayed him. Levi knew it the second he looked at him. At this, Moblit hesitated, looking away and glancing toward Rico. The silver haired woman frowned. In a split second, both Erwin and Levi exchanged a swift look before the Commander doubled over in a coughing fit.

“Commander!” Rico exclaimed, moving to him with obvious concern. “What’s wrong, sir?”

“Get the Commander some water, Rico.” Levi ordered, letting his arms fall down to his sides. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t keel over and die.”

At the comment, the woman shot the short man an unamused glare before pushing away and exiting them room in search of water. When the door shut, Levi looked over to Moblit, “Did you take care of them?”

“She’ll have to head to the kitchen to get the water,” Moblit confirmed with a nod, turning a sharp eye over to Erwin’s face. The Commander cleared his throat before settling back on the pillows behind him.

“Speak, Moblit.” Erwin said, not bothering to hide his anxiety now. “Where is Hanji?”

“The Major was…” Moblit paused, unsure how to proceed before taking in a slow breath. “She was wounded in the battle, sir. We had to take her immediately to intensive care.”

Erwin paled, lips pressing into a thin white line at the information, hands reaching toward the rails of his bed—no doubt to push himself off the cot and head over to the section of the medical wing. Levi only had to shoot him a hard stare and the blond man had to pry his hands away from the bars, letting loose a frustrated sigh. Moblit continued, “She sustained several bruises and even a fractured wrist. Worst of all was a cut from a hook that had sliced into her abdomen. Lucky for us, Lieutenant Alfons looked over her surgery.”

“Well that explains why my surgery was rescheduled,” Erwin mumbled, blue eyes narrowing. “And how is she now?”

“She is stable,” the Deputy explained, sighing before his eyebrows furrowed over his nose, “But that is not the distressing news, sir.”

“Then what is?” Levi asked, shifting his weight to fully turn his body toward the two men, glaring. “Spit it out.”

“The Lieutenant made a discovery concerning the Major’s state,” Moblit continued, turning a sharp glare that was unusually hostile toward Commander Erwin. “Commander, Major Hanji is pregnant.”

Blood ran cold, like streams of ice as the information sat and marinaded within unsuspecting minds. Air burst from lips in surprised exhales and eyes widened to exposed the dumbfoundedness numbing them their tongues. The two officers remained in a shocked silence, experiencing different velocities of registered processing, neither unable to speak for a while after Moblit’s announcement.

Levi could feel the shock like a blow to his gut, sucker punched into a stupefied stare that nearly made his jaw drop. Of all things to possibly happen… this was not one of the ones Levi had ever dreamed to expect. _Marry me, Hanji._ Levi’s own words resurfaced in a reminder of the simple fact they had accepted.

 _No._ Hanji had responded, declining his attempt at black humor and found it lacking.

_Why not?_

She had sighed, crossing her arms through the poor reflection of glass. _Because I’m barren, and we all know we’d made a bad couple anyway._

_Says who?_

_Says the fact you’re in love with Mikasa Ackerman._

She had said it herself. She had made the tests herself. How many times has he found her rubbing at an empty womb with a forlorn longing in her eyes? Levi hadn’t bothered to count, recognizing the sight and attributing it to the heaviness that was their burden, their duty as soldiers. It was a sad part of life, and he knew it would be worse because of her desire to be with Erwin.

 _“I love him, Levi.”_ The declaration had been unwarranted, and even completely irrelevant to the topic at the time. What the topic had been, Levi couldn’t even remember. What he could remember, was the clear surprise that made him look at her with wide eyes, she had beamed up at him like she had told a marvelous joke, but her gaze was sincere and undeniably filled with the truth of her feelings.

 _“Please tell me you’re joking.”_ She had laughed at that before slapping him in the shoulder.

_“Nope. Not in the slightest. I’m going to give that man the greatest looking babies, you’ll see.”_

But the hope and joy died from her eyes after she had taken a particular maternity test she had thought was completely genius. This first time, she had looked at the information with a pensive frown, certain that something had gone wrong with the test before jumping with renewed vigor and prepared a next test. He had been there when she was still taking the stupid tests, each time the information came back negative… he had seen the way her hope was slowly giving to the reality of the information.

 _“There’s got to be something wrong with the information._ ” She had insisted, working back into the formulas that had been beaten to death by the power of her intellect. Time after time, the result came back negative. On that day, Levi had seen her collapse in Erwin’s arms, and the single glance from their commander made him turn away and shut the door behind him, knowing that Erwin was the only one who could comfort her in this moment of despair.

“Moblit,” Levi felt his teeth set firm as he gave the man a dark glower. “You better not be joking.”

The soldier shook his head gravely, “I would never joke about this, Captain. The surgery was conclusive… She is pregnant.”

“How long…?” Erwin’s small voice hit them from the side. When Levi turned to look at him, he could not see joy in his eyes, but a profound emptiness. _Fate is a cruel bitch._

“From what they’re estimating,” Moblit indulged, “About a month and a half.”

Nodding dumbly, the Commander kept his gaze on his lap, fingers clenching to the sheets that covered his useless legs. “Month and a half…” He repeated softly to himself, tiny and clearly overwhelmed. “Who else knows of this?”

“Only a select few,” Moblit expressed. “I made sure everyone who was made aware of this predicament remain silent of its seriousness. However, I do not know if the relationship between the Major and Commander is secure in secrecy…”

“Erwin,” the man looked up at Levi’s face, the Captain gave him a hardened stare, “Is it yours?”

The question seemed to take him aback, making those blue eyes widen a fraction bigger. With a hard bob of his Adam’s apple, Erwin swallowed, trying to connect all the dots together. The pace he was going at was frustrating Levi, making the Captain take another step closer to the Aryan before grabbing him around the collar.

“Is it yours?” He ground out through gritted teeth, storm gray eyes drilling into stunned blue. After a moment, Erwin exhaled sharply before looking away, nodding.

“Yes,” Erwin said finally. “There could be no one else.”

“You are certain that it is yours? Hanji has had no other lover?” Levi asked again, gruff and livid. “Now think really fucking hard, Erwin. Because if the brat that’s cooking in Hanji’s womb does end up being yours, neither of us will be able to be sure she will stay safe.”

Erwin scowled, “Levi…”

“Be careful what you say,” the Captain hissed, “Now, is it yours?”

It seemed that finally, Levi’s implication was fully processed within the shock expanse of Erwin’s understanding. This was a situation that would complicate _everything._ If the government got notice that Erwin was the father of Hanji’s child… it would be seen as nothing short of the highest form of insubordination, even treason. This sort of claim could ruin the safety and stability of the corp, Rico would probably be assigned elsewhere and Erwin immediately punished. And there was no worse way to punish Erwin for breeding a child without the government’s consent. That child, and even Hanji, would probably disappear from Erwin’s life for ever.

This clear implication was not lost on Moblit either.

“It’s mine,” the man said, shocking the two commanding officers to look at him. The Deputy Lieutenant gave them a curt nod, “I have not filled out my Survey yet. If the Major needs protection, I am more than willing to take the necessary spot to do so.”

“But…” Erwin began, looking at a loss before Levi released him.

“How soon can you prepare the engagement documents?” Levi asked. Moblit gave the man a firm look.

“As soon as possible.”

Levi bobbed his head in response, “Good. Get them ready. We’ll need to make sure we have this situation under control before it escapes our knowledge. Erwin,” The Commander looked back into Levi’s steel gray eyes, silent. “This is temporary.”

“Is it…?” Erwin muttered back, looking away. Another short silence filled between them as they awaited further confirmation from their commanding officer. The Aryan was like stone for the good space of a minute before giving them a slow nod. “Do it, Moblit.”

“Good man,” Levi added, and the Deputy Lieutenant was slamming a fist to his chest before turning and heading for the door. He paused just as he reached the threshold, hand half-raised toward the door knob.

“Commander, what of the Female Titan?” Moblit asked, voicing the very question that was kept in hiding within this latest predicament. Erwin’s eyebrows knitted together once before smoothing over his forehead. With a flat stare, the Commander of the Survey Corp looked at the men before him and it was as if he was no longer the wretched man that had been sitting before them just seconds prior, but iron willed leader.

“We go after her.” Erwin’s voice was a strong boom, depicting the strongest of assurity. “This battle… this war that is brewing between us and the monarchy… whether or not it was planned, has now been giving a head-start, and it is thanks to Annie Leonhart’s unprecedented introduction. We cannot allow any more pieces to end up in our enemy’s hands. Levi,” said man tilted his chin in acknowledgement. “You and what men are capable will man an expedition after her.”

Erwin’s eyes narrowed into vicious blades of ice, “I trust you carry the ability to subdue her.”

“I carry more than that.”

“Good. Do what you can to take her down, but Levi… You cannot kill her. Not yet. We need her alive.” The short captain’s face hardened with a dark edge, but he said nothing in protest. Erwin flexed his hands away from the crinkled sheets, pressing his fingers against the clothed skin of his legs. “How soon can you be prepared?”

“Immediately.” Levi replied lowly. Erwin nodded once, dismissing them with a simple glance. Moblit gave them a final bow of respect before turning toward the door.

“My deepest condolences, Commander Erwin.” Moblit said before throwing a last glance over his shoulder, “And… Congratulations.”

The door released a soft squeak as it swung open and gave the tall man his exit. The sound of the door sliding shut was the longest and loudest hiss and click that either of the two war veterans had ever heard in their lives. When Levi looked back at Erwin, the man was reaching to grab the military jacket that lay on the chair to the other side of the bed. He watched in silence as the blonde haired man reached into a pocket, pulled out a silver chain with a green gem—the only memento of a past love Erwin allowed himself to keep—before reaching over to the nearest trash bin.

The necklace fell through the air, silver chain glistening before it disappeared within the confines of the waste basket. Not long after that, Erwin settled back into his bed in silence. Levi said nothing before leaving, knowing that the following despair wrenched cry that would escape from Erwin’s soul was not for his ears, or for anyone’s ears to witness.

* * *

As his feet took him down the halls, past the faces and the tears that fell from dirtied cheeks and blood drenched bandages, Captain Levi made it a key point to walk straight and proud, sporting his best and most intimidating stare as he moved down the halls. The bandages that covered his limbs, he bore like Medals of Honor, displaying his human weakness proudly for any human eye to see.

The suffering of these people… all the weeping and the angry… they were his kinsmen. He saw in their eyes the same anger and defiance that had once lived in the eyes of those who know covered miles of earth and graves. All the anger needed now… was a spark.

Eren was unconscious right now, tears of blood dripping from closed lids that few wondered if they would open again. The boy had so valiantly and selflessly placed the mantle of Humanity’s Hope on his shoulders, saved them from sure extinction. But, Levi had to remind himself that in the end, Eren was still so very young, and Levi would be loathe to admit it… but he saw the titan shifter as family. So much in his zeal and desire to fight reminded him so shockingly of Isabel, whom had called him ‘big bro’ with warm affection and fierce admiration.

To this day, Levi wondered how he had ever lived to deserve such raw dedication from anyone with such pure intentions, and moral complicity to do whatever was necessary. His life and hands were not clean, and no matter how hard he scrubbed, the past would not give in to disinfectants.

But, while the past may carry the sins of his soul, Levi knew that his feet were paving the future that his loved ones deserved. It is in the now that he knew that he had to step up, yet again, and do what was called of him. Call it a skewed sense of justice, over protection, or simple idiocy, but Levi had made promises that shaped him into the man he is now.

 _I hope you’re rolling in your grave, old geezer._ Levi thought with clenched fists.

He had long been Humanity’s Hope long before Jaeger had been—and it was the right time to take that mantle once more. _Just until he is ready._

When his hands pushed the door to Mikasa’s temporary room, he was met with the sight of her sitting up, feet pressed against the ground while she lifted heavy weights in her hands to make the impressive coils of her biceps curl. Gray eyes met gun metal blue and in the flash of practiced synchronization and the force of their soul’s resonance, her eyes sparked with a familiar flash of determination.

“We’re going after her?”

Levi nodded, hiding his smirk for as long as he could (secretly loving the sight of her in just a training bra and underwear while she pumped the 30 lbs weights with ease, a light blanket of sweat making her skin glisten in the hallway’s torchlight) he lifted his hands to rest at his hips. “How soon can you be ready?”

“These wounds are nothing.” She replied swiftly, pushing to her feet and taking several steps to deposit her weights back on the ground. The sight of the long bandage wrapped around her back made his hidden smile disappear completely. His eyes traced the diagonal strap with careful precision, noting how—despite her efforts to appear unaffected—the little breaths and grunts that escaped past her chapped lips were not only from the exercise. Suddenly, her body gave a wobble, one of her hands shooting up to brace against the wall. Levi nearly gave a start toward her until she shook her head.

“Are you alright?” He asked. Mikasa gave him a short nod.

“Fine… fine. Just got a bit dizzy, is all.” After a long moment of silence, Mikasa continued in placing her weights in their respective places against the wall. Levi’s lips pursed as she slowly stood up.

“I need you at one hundred percent, Mikasa.” He said seriously, when she straightened she gave him a familiar flat expression. “Give me an estimate.”

 _Honesty._ It was what was promised. With a begrudging sigh, Mikasa looked away before stretching her limbs in testing pulls, “I’ll need a full day.”

“Done.” Levi said, crossing the space to adjust the strap of her bra, the sensation of their skin sliding together was a delicious friction that immediately made her pupils expand. When he met her gaze, he could openly see her every emotion, something that he had always admired about her. Mikasa gave so much of herself, even unknowingly, that it made him wonder how he had managed to stay afloat in the tempest that was her essence.

Slowly, her hand met his, sliding over his forearm before hooking her fingers through the gaps of his hand. “You don’t have to bear it alone.” She muttered, bringing his hand toward her other hand, slender digits tracing the lines of his palm. Levi’s lips quirked upwards at the corners, unsurprised by her sharp intuition.

“I’ve done it before.” Mikasa’s storm greys blinked up from his hand to meet his gaze directly—once upon a time her lack of intimidation had irked him… now—she shook her head once.

“When you had to bear the weight of your comrades alone. Not anymore.”

His chin quirked up, looking at her from an angle, “You’re so sure you can handle it.”

“Second Strongest,” She replied with a small smile, the glint of her teeth and curve of her lips looked so inviting now and Levi had to restrain himself from sealing his lips over hers and making her gasp in ways that had nothing to do with pain.

“No,” He corrected, leaning to press a hand to the back of her neck and bring her forward so that their foreheads would touch. “You’ve always been the strongest.” His words clearly moved her, making her fingers clench over his and her nose to close distance and rest beside his, their lips just hovering over each other.

“We’re together in this,” She said after a moment of just breathing each other in. _This war… This war, Levi. It must come._

_“You told me once that we could not afford another war, Erwin.” Erwin’s eyes crinkled as they beheld the chain that lay upon the desk Hanji had abandoned it to._

_“I’m afraid that we cannot afford avoiding this one.”_

_Be ready._

“Mikasa,” Levi voiced her name and the wind of her eyes was pulling away to behold him patiently. “When the time comes, you must obey my command.”

Slender eyebrows furrowed at the request, “I always have.”

“Those times were different, things are changing.” He said, sliding his hand on her nape to cradle her jaw. “I hope that your loyalty won’t.”

“Never.” She said, but he could still see the uncertainty within the black of her windows, saw it clearly was her eyes jumped from one of his to the other, as if searching. With a nod, he began to tilt his chin, intent with denying her access to his lips any longer. Their mouths only just brushed each other until a knock began at the door, soft and almost inaudible. Pulling away, Mikasa gave him a soft smile to his irritated glance.

“Who is it?” She called and the wooden slab slid open to reveal one of the lieutenants, a tall and frail looking redhead with dull blue eyes, from the medical wing. Upon seeing their proximity, his cheeks burned with a sheepish glow that turned into a horrified pallor upon facing the full weight of flat disdain within Levi’s gaze.

“F-f-forgive me, Captain… uh, Senior Cadet Ackerman…” The Lieutenant sputtered, reaching to tug uncomfortably at the hem of his white jacket, one of his sleeves held the familiar blue and green strip that announced him as one of the nurses and care specialist. His blue eyes then seemed to register the extent of Mikasa’s nudity, eyes taking in the sight of her bare legs and stomach with a stupefied gawk.

“Lieutenant,” Levi said lowly, almost a growl, “I hope you didn’t interrupt us just to gawk at the Cadet.”

“Future Lieutenant,” Mikasa added in an undertone and an amused quirk of her lips. The Lieutenant visibly jumped at the accusation, face burning a hot beet red before he began to scramble for words.

“N-n-n-no, C-Captain, of course not!” The redhead stammered, “I would never look at the cadet in that way—that’s not to say she isn’t admirable to the sight—I mean she’s not bad— _I MEAN—_ She’s very good looking, but of course you already know that—I…”

“Digging yourself a deeper grave, kid.” Levi grunted, holding back from rolling his eyes at Mikasa’s half-hidden snort of laughter.

The young man coughed into a closed fist, fidgeting beneath Levi’s growing feral gaze, before finally clearing his throat and pulling himself up straight (well, attempted is more like) and looking at them as respectfully as possible. “Captain, Senior Cadet, I have the results of the tests we took earlier.”

“What tests?” Levi rose a brow. Mikasa stepped away from him, obviously not bothered in the slightest that she was barely clothed, before reaching to grab one of the folded gowns that had been brought to her earlier.

“We had to make sure that she was not suffering from any internal injury or bleeding, and considering the extent of her wounds,” The red headed man replied, firmly keeping his eyes on Levi for fear of his own life. “We had to rule out all possible complications.”

“Well, go on then,” Levi said, jerking his chin flippantly at the kid, moving over to rest his weight on the nearest wall. “Get to it. Fire away.”

The Lieutenant nodded, reaching into his coat before pulling out a slim file, opening it with a cautious glance toward Mikasa, of whom was tugging the her hair out from under the hem of the hospice gown that now hugged her body loosely. “Oi,” Levi’s voice snarled and the sneaky blue eyes slammed back over the words on the paper.

“Of course, apologies,” The lieutenant mumbled before looking over the file, “Right. Well, from what we’ve gathered, you have sustained no serious injuries save the wound on your back, Cadet Ackerman. And it appears we’ve also crossed out concussions, as well… so that’s… good.”

Mikasa walked back around to sit on the cot, facing the tall man with an expressionless face, nearly mirroring the Captain’s flat boredom. With an awkward clear of his throat, the Lieutenant proceeded, his eyes flickering over the sheet, nodding to himself and mumbling a few words in the positive. His other hand lifted at the page, looking at a page beneath with the same sort of focus he had been entertaining the resistance to look at the beautiful woman.

“Seems like everything is in all good,” The Lieutenant affirmed.

“I could’ve told you that.” Mikasa said out loud, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. The redheaded man nodded with a small smile.

“The Head Doctor did say that the wound to your back, while large, was not deep enough to require stitches. So, so long as you maintain whatever exercise you usually do at a moderate range, you shan’t experience any problems with it. One of the nurses will come down with a special salve that will aid with the healing, be sure to apply that at least two times a day for the next week. Uh… and Oh!” The Lieutenant exclaimed, his eyes widening large as he surveyed the last bit of information.

The two lovers exchanged a glance at his expression, Mikasa’s mildly amused whilst Levi gave her a shrug. When he looked back at them his eyes held an excited twinkle. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m saying this but… well one of the tests we took was a urine test, you know to check for any possible infections…”

“We get it, there were lots of tests.” Levi sighed, actually rolling his eyes. This didn’t deter the man from beaming up at them anyway.

“Right well, it appears that there was a positive!” He said with obvious enthusiasm. Mikasa scowled.

“A positive… for an infection?” She asked, “That doesn’t sound like good news.”

The Lieutenant grinned wider, as if holding in his hands a secret that could change everything. It was starting to grate on Levi’s last nerves. “Out with it, Lieutenant.” The redheaded man nodded vigorously before closing the file and tucking it back in his jacket.

“Captain Levi, Senior Cadet Ackerman, I must offer my happiest congratulations, this is surely a ray of sunlight on this dark occasion.” At the word ‘congratulations’ Levi froze, instantly remembering Moblit’s parting words and feeling his insides fall to the ground. The Lieutenant looked back at Mikasa, almost reverently. “The test is positive, Miss Ackerman. You’re pregnant.”

The sound of Mikasa’s jaw unhinging was the only sound that followed the tense silence, before being shortly followed by the Lieutenant exclaiming a highly aggravating giggle, “Isn’t this great?”

 _Yes._ Levi thought dumbly. _Peachy._

* * *

Amber eyes watched the sleeping expression of a slender face, cleaned of all signs of dirt and blood that had previously made gruesome stains upon the porcelain cheeks. Jean Kirschstein had been unable to move from his spot since he had followed Lieutenant Cray and Alex to the intensive care section. Since they had shoved him out of the operating room, all Jean could do was stand and wait, worried that if he disappeared for a single moment… Historia would die.

_By all logic and reason… she should be dead. She’s probably dying anyway._ The thoughts hit him like malicious hornet stings, sending their poison into his bloodstream and making the pain of their intrusion send rippling shocks of agony through his being. At this moment, his instincts begged him to run, enticed him with the thought of escaping for a short while just to gather his bearings. The thought of abandoning this girl now was ever more abhorrent, and as he stood in waiting, paced, and sat in hopes that what news that came from the good doctors would be simply that Historia lived, and her will allowed her to continue fighting on.

Yet, he couldn’t help but look around, hoping that he would see Armin come to the rescue and offer hope and words of determination. Only, he hadn’t seen the blonde man since the attack and hadn’t seen him since. For all Jean knew, Armin was already dea— _enough of that now._ Shaking his head, the tall soldier turned away from the little view the small window offered him of Historia’s state.

He had known Armin for nearly six years now, seen the kid turn from a sobbing wreck to a calm and collected figure of military prowess and intellect. With the passing years, he had witnessed the feminine looking boy grow and fit into the daunting boots of a leader, a true man. They survived the worst of conflicts—this simple attack would not kill him. Not now. No. Armin was strong. Armin will come.

The hours had passed and no sign of the blonde Lance Corporal came, making each intake and exhale of breath feel more and more difficult to experience without the sting of despair. Try as he might, Jean tried to keep it together, to make sure that he wouldn’t shatter now. He was alone. He still didn’t know if Sasha had been able to make it out alive, if Connie had been fast enough and managed to save her when he had been too busy running for Historia’s life.

Sasha…

Oh god… _Sasha, please forgive me._ Jean ground his teeth tight, pressing the palm of his hand hard against the expanse of his forehead, wincing when his fingers skimmed the scrape he had being sporting stung at the touch. Feet aching, body exhausted from the day’s events, Jean tried to ignore the seductive whispers of sleep, trying to focus on staying put for the sake of Historia. Armin may not be here right now, but Jean was, and he would be damned if he abandoned another teammate now just for a few hours of miserable sleep.

“Jean!” He heard and he nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast he perked up toward the voice. Heading toward him with bright eyes, was his good friend and comrade.

“Connie!” Jean exclaimed, taking several steps toward the incoming soldier, sweeping and being swept into a sharp embrace of slapping hands and relieved sighs. “Good to see you alive and well!”

Connie took a step back, giving him a half smile and nod. “It’ll take more than one Titan to kill me,” the buzzcut said with a half chuckle. Jean slapped the man on the shoulder.

“Good man, Connie.” The taller man praised, before turning a glance toward the door labeled with intensive care.

“No offense man,” Connie said after a short moment of silence. “But you look like shit.”

“I think we all reserve the right to look like shit,” Jean retorted, yet didn’t feel his usual umph in the comeback. “I feel like shit.”

Connie nodded, gold eyes narrowing with empathy as he looked away, gaze following Jean’s line of sight. “…How is she?” Jean could only shrug, it was all he allowed himself to do, lest he break down now. _Keep it together._ Blinking, Jean practically envisioned Eren glaring up at him, _Keep your shit together, Horseface._ Looking back at Connie, he felt a bit stronger.

“Not sure yet. They’re still operating.” Connie let out a long sigh, before crossing his arms. “She lost a lot of blood…”

“How long as she been in there…?” the buzzcut muttered, turning to look out the nearest window, seeing pale light begin to pour through the glass, contrasting against torchlight. Jean said nothing for a short while before turning away.

“Almost eight hours.”

Connie’s eyes jumped to him, surprised. “Eight hours?”

“Maybe more.”

Another pause, and this time Connie made no noises aside from lifting his hand to rub his fingers over his scalp. “How’s Li?” The question seemed to have taken the shorter man by surprise, yet when he remained silent, Jean guessed he was just watching him to see if he could catch him fraying.

“Fine. Her injuries weren’t as bad… she fell asleep a while ago…” Connie trailed off. Over the next short period of time, the two men remained quiet, unsure of what else to say for fear of emotions rampaging and anger being unleashed unwittingly. It wasn’t hard to notice… Jean could feel it, saw it in the way Connie remained still of his usual prattling on and iconic sways. He was always so still during these times, as if the single movement would offer too much disturbance in a time that demanded stillness. It was hard not to submit to the mourning that was laying waste to the Castle’s built good cheer. All they could do was stand by and watch as the hurricane ripped apart the remains of the joyous occasion.

After a moment, Connie took a step to face Jean more directly, amber eyes certain, “Have you been able to go see Sasha?”

The reminder of his girlfriend and newly affianced lover sent a kick to Jean’s heart. A kick that struck an already weary organ with a lot of the recoil… and a lot of the pain. He felt so wrong for not having tried to find the auburn haired woman yet, but despite the desire to go after her, his feet remained glued to his spot. Connie took his silence as a negative, letting out another sigh, less lengthy and marginally more exasperated.

“Jean,” his tone was hard, disbelieving and irritated. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I promised to watch after Historia,” was said man’s rebuttal, clipped and cold. “I can’t leave now…”

Connie let out another series of noises that landed on Jean’s uncaring ears, yet no actual argument fell past the other man’s lips. Just empty protests and rugged disappointments. “Fine,” the short man agreed begrudgingly, knowing full well that Jean would not be going anywhere anytime soon. “I’ll bring her here.”

The taller man’s eyes widened, turning to look at his companion with surprise, “What do you… Sasha’s alright?”

“You won’t be when she gets here,” Connie snorted, but smiled nonetheless. A loud exhale that Jean hadn’t realized he had been holding in blew past his lips in a relieved gust, chest deflating and shoulders feeling lighter at this information. “I’ll be back in a bit, Jean. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Stupid thing to say,” Jean rolled his eyes, Connie was turning around and waving him off flippantly. It would be a lie to not admit the thought of Sasha coming to him, safe and sound, excited him. It only just truly occurred to him how much her absence had left him feeling like something had bitten off a huge chunk of his heart. Now he could feel the wounded organ patch itself together with great enthusiasm.

When he turned his attention back toward the door labeled with the sign ‘intensive care’, his eyes immediately found Historia’s sleeping face. In his heart, Jean found himself hoping desperately that she would blink those blue eyes open. That she would smile again and make them all light up with the brilliance that was her persona. If she did survive… _Please survive. Live._

Shuddering out a slow breath, Jean turned and began to pace again. The sound of his boots echoing in the silent hallway bounced into his ears, clattering and feeling like the pressuring drops of seconds and time just ticking away. For a short moment, Jean allowed his mind to hone on the sound, the feel, and the force of each footstep, allowing it to clear his mind and allow some peace to filter through his bones. Then again, perhaps peace was probably not the right word anyway…

There was a soft squeak and woosh from the door. Jean whirled around, nearly tripping over his feet as he looked anxiously into the face of Alex. The young man looked exhausted, pale, and looking like he was in desperate need of a hot shower. The sleeves of his arms were splattered and ruined in blood, some stains fresher than others.

“Alex,” Jean breathed, stepping close to the shorter man with an alarmed expression, not sure how to read the bowl cut’s exhaustion as a good or bad sign. He hoped for the best anyway. He had to. “Please tell me you’ve got good news for me, man.”

Gray eyes blinked a couple of times as Alex wet his lips with a flick of his tongue, inhaling. “Is Arlert anywhere here?”

“No.” Jean replied slowly, hating the sudden weight of the air over his head as Alex contemplated his next words.

Instead, the cadet nodded once before looking into Jean’s waiting gaze, “We’ve done all we can, at this point, Jean.”

Alex sighed again before rubbing his nose, “She’s stable for now… but unresponsive. It’s up to her to stay alive at this point, and with all that’s happened… it doesn’t look too good.”

“What are you saying…?” Jean muttered. “Is she going to live or not? What are the chances, Alex? What are the odds, is she going to make it or _not_?!” _Please don’t… don’t die… Please…_

The raven haired man looked away and turned his gaze to look through the small window Jean had haunted next to for the past few hours. “She lost a lot of blood, Jean. Cray says that the trauma alone should have killed her, it was miracle alone that she’s still alive. But, the chances of her lasting the night are less than twenty percent. I’m… I’m sorry.”

He was moving before he could stop himself, fists gripping onto the coarse fabric of the cadet’s jacket before pulling him close, Jean looked absolutely horrid. “Twenty percent is still a good chance. You don’t know her like I do! She’s going to make it!”

Alex’s eyes, once wide with shock at the sudden display of emotional onslaught, crinkled with sympathy and sadness, “Jean…”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me!!” The officer bellowed, hating how his fists were now shaking against his will. “She’s still alive, Alex! And she’s going to live, do you understand me? She is!!” the sting of tears came like a cruel lover, forcing the hot trails to burn down his cheeks like a caress given after a vicious slap. Despite Jean’s livid words and slow incoming sobs, Alex’s words came like the fall of a guillotine.

“I am sorry, Jean…”

“Shut up!!” Jean roared, but his body was already slumping to the ground, taking Alex with him. The bowl cut did not object, remaining silent as his knees hit the ground and the other man broke down before him. Neither man cared much for the minutes that passed them…

And so they didn’t see the newest figure standing across the hall, didn’t see the emptiness churning into disbelief and finally boiling into a hot anger within a pair of blue eyes. In the rampage of emotions, neither noticed the presence of this newcomer, not realizing how he had stayed in silence as he suffered the pain of nearly losing his lover for the second time that night.

Fists clenched tight besides the slim legs that belonged to none other than the blonde solder, Armin Arlert. In silence, he watched the two men exchange tears over the events and lives lost, and while Armin had not heard the full extent of their conversation concerning Historia’s life, he had heard plenty. This night was supposed to be their wedding night. This was supposed to be the happiest occasion, the result of patient waiting and loving vows exchanged with a kiss and consumated in their bed, but it all ended in blood and chaos. So much chaos… and it was all because of _her._

His Historia was dying… and whatever chances she has for survival were slim… so very slim…Those chances should’ve never been cast like dice on this day. None of this was supposed to happen.

Yet, it did.

The desire for vengeance swirled like black water in his veins, making his fists clench tight and his muscles coil with flames. Annie had taken this moment from him, taken more and spilt blood with a terrible smile. A deed not unlike the events of four years ago… but this time…

Armin was not going to stand back and let her take any more.

_No more games, Annie. No more bets._

With a silent turn of his heels, the young Lance Corporal set his jaw and limped quietly away in the direction of the Commander’s room.

_Time’s up._


	13. Behold The Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can see, I can see lights and I can see colors, but you are always invisible to me. I am always obvious to you. I am blinded.” – Anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s tracks are: Assassinate the Target, Suleiman’s Grief, from the Assassin’s Creed Revelation OST by Lorne Balfe, Nycteris by Hans Zimmer, Albireo by Kashiwa Daisuke and Fa by Nills Frahm

Motes. That’s what they were called… tiny particles of dust that neither stilled nor sat, but swung with each suggestion of a breeze that curled around the bright beam of light. The ray of light looked so tangible, he wondered if he were to extend a hand to touch it, would drape itself around his skin like fabric… or water. Every exhale of breath gave life and energy to the specks floating in the air, the microorganisms that occupied spaces too small to measure.

It had been too long since he had last beheld sunlight, let alone sat beneath it. Yet despite the many haggard dreams and aches that crawled over filthy skin, he refused to go anywhere near the rare flood of light. When the sound of rusty bars screeching had been a warning too vague a demand for a reaction, he had half expected he had overslept and it was already time for lunch. Instead, the men walked past him without a single glance and stabbed a key through the lock that maintained the only window in the prison closed. With a grunt and a yank, the metal gave and the wooden slab that served as cover slid open.

The surprise was quickly swallowed whole by the invading cascade of sunlight. Pain exploded behind his eyes, urging him to immediately avert his gaze.

“What’s this now?” He croaked, pushing himself to sit up on his meager cot.

“Sunlight, Nile,” his Keeper replied, smiling to himself. Under this new perspective, Nile tried to focus on the man standing just feet away, blinking back black spots and the growing headache that threatened to pound. A moment of trying to focus and Nile was able to take the detail of his warden’s face.

He was a beefy man with a face covered in a goatee and twinkling blue eyes. The color alone reminded him too much of a certain mutinous Commander and a rush of hatred and adrenaline surged through his chest. Stiffening and desiring nothing more than to rip this man’s beard off his face, Nile settled for crossing his fingers together and leaning against his knee.

“To what do I owe the blessing?” The captive spat, reaching a hand to scratch at the unruly scruff over his jaw, wincing when his nails ripped into a tick and left a small patch of his skin scabbed and bloody.

“Why, you’re excellent behavior of course,” The guard chortled, and stepped out of the ray of light to disappear behind the bars. “Call it a gift of sorts from an old friend.”

“What old friends?” Nile snapped, black mood darkening further at the jab. “I’ve been abandoned by old friends to rot in this roach infested cell.”

“Well,” the man sighed again, tone still too cheery and lighthearted for Nile to tolerate. “It’s not their fault is it, Nile? Usurping the throne only gets people angry, you see.”

Nile shot back with a violent curse, before standing to approach the meager plumbing system that worked as a sink and toilet. “In any case,” the guard continued and the sound of keys against the lock of his jail cell rattled and unleashed a sharp squeal. “You should learn to be more grateful! You haven’t been completely abandoned. You have a visitor.”

At the word, something in him perked up, _Maria?_ Yet, what visits he had received have always been of strangers, and never of the wife and children torn away from him. With a grasp of his belt, Nile tugged the fabric of his pants open before leaning against the wall. The sound that followed was a sigh and the clarity of relief.

“Who in the hell would want to come visit Humanity’s Traitor?” the former commander grunted.

“I would.”

Everything froze around him. Dirt gripped under his nails as Nile slowly curled the hand against the wall in a tight fight. A flash of red swirled beneath his eyelids and after a tense moment, Nile swallowed and concluded his business and yanked the chain that would flush the toilet.

Water poured back in another basin and with careful movements, he moved to dip dirtied hands in the rusty smelling liquid. Adjusting his pants a moment later, Nile turned around to face his bars. The sunlight provided enough brightness to expose the finer details of his newest guest. Light bounced off sunken sap colored eyes and the hundreds of wrinkles around the wise face. Under the bright beam, he could see each individual strand of silver gray hair growing neatly under an aquiline nose.

“Well, well,” Nile drawled, lips pulling into a vicious sneer. “I should be honored, Commander Pixis.”

“Nile,” Pixis’ voice returned, monotone and grave. “You look like you could use a bath.”

“Don’t we all,” the dark haired man countered before moving back to his cot and laid back down. “Leave.”

“I would like to speak to you, Dawk.”

“I would like to return to my family and have my name cleared,” Nile snarled, throwing an arm to cover his eyes and bring some relief to the violent churnings sending pulses in his skull. “Obviously we cannot all get what we want.”

Tension followed the silence and the mock dark pressed against his eyes, and for a moment Nile pretended he was alone. The silence was not followed by the retreating footsteps of his unwelcome guest, instead it domineered the space long enough for Nile to wonder if Pixis died on his feet. A little surge of black glee made his lips quirk at the thought of the traitorous old man dying then and there. Sina knows he’s been alive for too long.

“Leave us,” Dot Pixis’ voice boomed in the enclosed area and to his utter disdain, Nile heard the footsteps of his guards leaving behind the swing of a door and the slam of their abrupt privacy. “Commander Dawk, get up.”

“That’s former Commander, Pixis. You should know this by now.”

The old man’s voice was a hammer, “Get up, Nile. _Now._ ”

Peering above his arm to glower at the officer on the other side of the bars nearly enraged him, “ _Why?_ ”

“Because I will not share important information to a man off his feet,” Pixis stated, tugging a withered hand through his pocket to pull out a familiar flask. Gold eyes narrowing, the old man fixed him a hard stare that was notorious for making trainees shit themselves. “ _Get up._ ”

With a growl, Nile pushed himself off the cot to slap his feet on the ground, yet refused to stand to meet him “You have no _right_ to order me around, old man.”

“A topic for another time,” Pixis said flippantly before uncorking the top of his flask. Downing the contents, Pixis let out a gratuitous sigh before closing his flask. The man had the nerve to offer a drink. Nile’s nostrils flared as he exhaled a sharp breath. “You’ve been in here for too long, Nile.”

“Really now?” He hissed.

Pixis nodded, and he pocketed the flask before crossing his arms behind his back. “I believe it is time you step back into the light, Nile, and I don’t mean just this meager slip of sunlight through a square on the wall.”

The grip Nile had clenched around the scratchy fabric of his sheet tightened, “The hell are you saying?”

Pixis blinked once before looking in the direction of the window, “You desire to restore your honor.” It was not a question and it did not need an answer. “I have a way for you to do just that.”

Lips curling back into another snarl, Nile nearly threw himself at the bars, “Don’t mock me, Dot. I am not in the mood for jokes, nor will I entertain more of you or Erwin’s filthy lies!”

“I am not laughing, Nile.”

A fierce swallow of the acrid air and Nile was pushing himself to his feet to approach the old soldier, his hands squeezing over the cold bars. “Enough of this, what is it you want?”

“Patience,” Pixis replied easily, not at all surprised by the wild gleam in the former Commander of the Military Police. “And your cooperation. While it is true you have been jailed here under wrong charges, your entrapment was necessary.”

“ _Necessary?!_ ” the word exploded in a spray of venom and spit. The white dots that flew from his mouth landed just shy of the bald man’s figure. Nile had half a mind to spit a more direct attack at him. Pixis was unfazed, blinking back at him before proceeding.

“It is up to you to believe the truth or not, Nile. We needed you alive, and to ensure that, your incarceration was the only option. There are still men loyal to you in the Military Police. Men necessary for our next move.”

“The _fuck_ are you talking about, Pixis?” Nile snapped, knuckles burning white against the bars. Dot Pixis fell silent, unmoving as he gazed flatly into Nile’s eyes, it only just occurred to the captive that air was bursting in harsh yanks and tugs through his lungs and out his mouth. Moments passed and Nile could see nothing, no ounce of jest or lie in the older man’s golden stare.

“Did you not find it odd, Nile,” Pixis spoke once more. “That you were first sentenced to death by firing squad without so much as a complete trial?”

At this, Nile felt his brows pull down in a strange expression, not comprehending the man’s point. Pixis moved on, “If the evidence and proof against you hadn’t been published in the newspapers and the trial publicized, no doubt you’d be dead, rather than locked up.”

A sudden smile tugged the edges of Pixis’ mustache, “You’re far luckier than you think.”Gold eyes twinkled curiously before he pulled away and began to step toward the door.

Stunned, Nile watched him retreat before violently shaking the bars, “Wait! The hell do you mean? Pixis!”

Said man paused in step, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the round flask again. Turning around, the Garrison Commander tossed the metal container toward Nile. Pushing his arms through the bars, Nile fumbled in his grasp before slamming his fingers firmly around the embossed metal. The slosh of liquid raged inside the container, but a strange clink within the flask gained his attention.

“Have a drink, Nile.” Pixis chuckled before turning back toward the door, “We’ll be in touch.”

It had been almost two hours since Pixis’ impromptu visit. Two hours and dark eyes narrowed in a contemplative stare over the twisting motes dancing under the sunlight’s slow moving stream. In his hands, Nile held tight to the metal flask and a roll of parchment covered in a film of plastic.

In the corner of shadow, Nile sat still through the shifts of his guards, the catch of plot stirring slowly within the confines of a rage focused mind and the starvation for purer air and opportunity.

* * *

It took five, maybe ten minutes for the rage to settle down in his blood. An additional fifteen minutes and Armin had been able to find information on Commander Erwin’s whereabouts. Only three minutes after and he was knocking on the man’s door, not caring in the slightest for the late hour or the fact that Keiji was insisting Armin come back in the morning.

“The Commander is resting, Arlert. He’s having surgery in the morning.”

“This won’t take long.”

“Arlert, I’m sure it can wai”—

Instead, the Lance Corporal shot the Lieutenant a sharp glare that startled the man quite a great deal. It was not every day one was given a death glare by Armin Arlert, even less a death glare that would rival Captain Levi’s. So, with a begrudging sigh, Keiji just shook his head and let the blond man through, sighing, “Just, don’t kill him or anything, alright?”

Stepping through the threshold, Armin didn’t bother with anymore words and, with a curt nod, closed the door behind him. The following sight didn’t surprise him. In the candle lit room, Commander Erwin was laying on his back in silence upon the hospice cot, half covered in a long sheet, save the arm where the needle that poured a clear liquid into his bloodstream. The clear cable ran down the side of the bed before joining the half filled bag of what looked like water. Yet, Armin knew better. Just below the bag was a small cylinder where liquid from the bag dripped tiny droplets through the IV line. Slow and steady the drops fell silently down and followed the cable and back into the man’s arm.

Erwin said nothing, staring emptily at the ceiling above. No words of greeting were exchanged, so Armin let the only question he had remain unspoken. In the past four years, both men had grown a relationship that often encroached the boundary of familiar understanding. While nothing had been spoken, it was clear Armin looked up to the broad man, admired and respected him. In turn, Erwin expressed the admiration for the younger soldier’s mind and ability to think three, even six, steps ahead.

In a rare moment of silence before the biggest conflict of their lives, the two shared a simple game of chess as Erwin asserted Armin’s loyalty to their cause. It had been the first time Erwin had lost at a game of chess. The game had never been finished between them, but Erwin’s king had been cornered by Armin’s knight and queen. Two more moves and the victory would have been clear. And yet, even after that, Armin insisted neither of them had a way of knowing who would have succeeded.

“So, you’ve decided.” The silence was broken by a simple statement. Armin, in turn, said nothing. The Commander slid his eyes closed, appearing as if he had fallen asleep, but soon let out a hiss of pain. Armin watched as the older man reached a hand toward the IV drip beside his bed and turned a dial, the drips in the cylinder increased in their frequency, confirming the suspicion about the solution. With a slow sigh, Erwin finally turned and looked at him, meeting his stare without confusion. “You’re certain?”

“There is nothing more that I want,” Armin’s voice was firm and stone cold. There was no hesitation, no illusion of hope in his eyes, just ice. Erwin nodded solemnly and looked toward the only empty chair in the room. In his gaze and in the poor light, it was hard to tell where his mind was directing him, yet wherever that road lead, Armin was sure it was not to a happy train of thought. The air above them was all heaviness, and no reprieve or promise of one would not be coming.

The thickness of intention was profoundly powerful through the stillness that was now Armin’s mind. Where chaos and sorrow had run rampant, the desolation left much of his hopes and desires wrecked in destruction and the blood of many spilt. In the years of his youth, Armin had been weak and helpless, spurned only by his own self-loathing and selflessness. It was much too easy to cast selfishness aside when so much was at stake. Yet, despite the efforts he had placed in training, in running besides fellow soldiers and pushing as hard as he could, he had hardly ever placed anywhere close to those with real strength. In those days, malnurishment and the stunted weight of starvation and loss of precious parents had held him back, made his movements slow and breaths haggard. So, Armin honed his mind, knowing that if he did not at least beat the disciplines of the Military in mind, he would have thrown his lot in with the many who preferred to cultivate rather than fight.

Underestimated and ridiculed, Armin thrived under the thumb of his peers’ scrutiny and sympathy, using each pitiful glance to set fire to his bones and force his innocent mind to grow in cunning. In many operations, he had used his weaknesses as his strength, taking advantage of those who sought to overpower him for sport and bring success to their missions and recon expeditions. As the months and years passed, Armin had grown to take the faith placed on his shoulders from his only family left and build a formidable castle of intellect and sharp wit. Not once had he considered ever falling in love.

Historia Reiss… Krista Lenz… In their very first expedition outside the walls, he had felt it—the first twinge of interest and even attraction to a girl, and it was to the very own Goddess of the 104th—yet this was a sentiment he easily brushed off when both Jean and Reiner had expressed similar intrigues, and even the fact Reiner had explicitly stated he would marry the small girl. It may have been a jest then, but to Armin, there was no chance of competing, and so he never bothered. The months passed and Krista’s true identity was revealed, her importance manifested and they understood that her protection and safety was paramount in their mission. It did not take long to figure out why she was so important, why she needed to survive. Armin only viewed her as a person of importance, nothing more, nothing less.

Until a fateful evening… the heaviness of betrayals and information cast over their squad had split them up. Eren and Historia had been discovered by a ruthless man who cared not for their worth, only their blood spilt over earth. In the fray of battles and abrupt losses, Armin tried to proceed with the plans as they should. Yet with their Captain missing, valuable information pitted against conflicting news, it became clear to him that Armin could only lead so far without the trust of comrades and their faith in his strength.

And fight for that loyalty he did, and when they were waiting for the opportune moment, she came to him. She had offered him a warm cup of broth, blue eyes downcast and miserable despite the kindness she extended. He accepted it, and left his words out of their spontaneous meeting. Suddenly, she began to speak, pouring over concerns and uncertainties. It was the very first time Armin truly let himself see her as a human being, as a friend. When he reached over to squeeze her hand, there was a sudden lack of air between them, because their blue eyes had met and throughout all the worry and confusion, there was comfort found. Historia only stared into his eyes, wide eyed and pink lips parted under the bright moonlight, and he saw all her suffering, all her self loathing and inner hatred for weakness, for demure silence. It was not unlike looking into a mirror.

It became the first time Armin saw someone for everything they were. He saw her insecurities and her pains, not hidden by a false cover or light smile that belonged to Krista Lenz, nor saw her as the figurehead Erwin knew her noble blood predestined her for… but saw her as the young woman starved of love and craving for self worth.

That was the night Armin had ever first kissed anyone. Why it happened, he couldn’t say to this day—perhaps it was the way the light bounced off her eyes, and made him want to comfort her. Or perhaps, it was the fact that he understood her pain, felt it amplified in this moment of desperation and loss and so let his body lean in close and with a strange thrill, felt her lean toward him in response. It lasted maybe a few minutes, awkward presses of lips upon lips that felt both strange and satisfying. When her hand had traveled to tangle in his hair, Armin felt something stir up sensations in his chest, like a million butterflies and the rush of jumping into something before looking. He didn’t know if it would’ve gone further, because not long after she had done that, he had reached to drop his cup of soup to press his hands against her ribs, only for her to rip herself away when Jean had suddenly appeared over the corner of their secret place.

Gasping and flushed, they both pushed each other away after that, heads reeling and hearts spinning. _It meant nothing._ It meant everything. Every time after that, Armin would see her and feel his heart begin to give to every quirk and action she did, as if she had yanked a film or blanket from his eyes and he was seeing for the first time. They didn’t kiss after that, but the support and necessity for acceptance was like water to parched tongues. He was the first one there for her when Ymir had been lost, held her as she shrieked and cried in pain for the loss of a dear friend and lover.

How their relationship moved from that, Armin had no idea. She made him feel happiness, made him think of clear skies and dew covered grass, of gates opening and feelings explored. Most of all, she made him feel needed and accepted in ways Eren or Mikasa couldn’t, and while confusing at first… it became undeniable. Imagine his joy when he realized that he made her feel that way as well, when his hands had reached and she held on. In a world filled with darkness and death, Historia had become his strength. When she had been in danger, his body filled with a capacity for action so great, the results had left him stunned and doused in blood of enemies and threat. Their ability to work together had only been the final proof of their compatibility, and he could remember—clear as day—the moment he had turned around and saw her standing in the aftermath, hands steady over the hilts of bloodied weapons and the razor sharp focus that turned her into a warrior instead of some fictitious figment of supposed divinity.

She had been angry, cold and breathing slow gasps of exertion. Her arms were splattered with blood and her clothes ripped, hair disheveled and gaze narrow and when she met his gaze, she only said “No more time. Let’s go, Armin.” There was no fear in her eyes.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

That had been the very moment Armin knew he had fallen in love with Historia Reiss. He knew that he would not be truly happy until he was sure he would be able to spend every moment of his life with her. When she kissed him again, covered in dirt and edelweiss, he knew that this beautiful, broken, and imperfect woman loved him too. The nights that had followed had been spent in hours talking, in hours listening and expressing innermost thoughts and concerns. She had told him of her youth, He told her of his parents. When she spoke of Ymir, Armin felt no jealousy or disappointment, because the love she harbored for the freckled woman was a part of her, and therefore a part of him. He wept with her when they spoke of the tall woman’s death, felt and shared the weight of agony that had left Historia bereft in the months that had followed.

“I never even got to tell her I loved her, Armin…” She had sobbed in his arms. “And now she’s gone.”

“Never,” He had whispered, when she pulled away and looked into his eyes he pressed a kiss to her tear stained cheeks. “She may be gone, but that love is real. I like to think she’s still here,” and when he pressed a hand to her heart he gave her a solemn smile. “Right here.”

That night, Historia had cried and wept without holding back, kissing him with ardor and pressing her body tight to his as the final stages of grief swept over her petite frame and left her sleeping and cradled in his arms. The morning that followed, she had shyly mumbled in his ear, “I want to have children with you.”

Armin almost died of happiness then, and if not for her fierce grip on his arm, he would have given her all she needed for their first child. _Not yet… just…_ _Not yet._ She pleaded, and Armin understood, respected her with every ounce of his being. Slowly, her boundaries were melting away, leaving nothing but the exposure of acceptance and happiness that they found in each other.

Like shattering mirrors, their happiness had come to a full stop. Explosion and dust took place where vows and grains of rice should have been. Without so much as a hint of mercy, she was ripped away from him. Forced into a confrontation with death that should have never been scheduled… and Armin was not going to sit back and watch her die while Annie roamed free. He would not cower any longer. Never again.

Erwin let out a short breath, bringing the young soldier back to the present moment, and when Armin focused, he was certain the older man had followed the same train of thought down memory lanes and toward this harbor of decision.

“I will not stop you, Armin.” Erwin’s azure eyes blinked away from the empty chair by the cot to acknowledge his only companion. “In fact, I believe I would charge no one else to join this expedition. However, I must be certain that you will not engage her for revenge… We need her alive.”

“Understood,” the younger man nodded, stoic and blank beneath the sudden scrutiny of his commander. “I do have one request, sir.”

“I am not surprised,” Erwin acknowledged.

“When we gain whatever information we can get from Annie, I would like permission to end her life.” There was no warmth, nothing swirling within Armin’s gaze, save the serious sheet of icy resolve.

Erwin’s lips tightened just a fraction, “There are many who desire that, Armin.”

Armin’s eyes flashed into steel, “Well, They can get in line.”

There it was. The chink in the flat armor surrounding the young man. It was small, yet undeniable, the very real and powerful push of rage so concentrated it did not burn, but caused blood to cool to a calm far more dangerous than simple anger. It was the kind of cool disregard one had for extinguishing an insect, rather than the premeditation of murder. It was hard to believe this same boy had once fought hard to clear this same adversary’s sake.

In this game, it seemed only one specific life, rather than the thousands already lost, was needed to turn hope into intent. “I will assist in bringing her back, Commander. I know her well enough to be valuable in this expedition. All I ask is for the chance to exact my retribution.”

“Even if Annie’s actions were not driven by her own will?” The older man countered. Armin fell silent once more, taking Erwin’s words into consideration without so much as a grimace. “Be careful, Armin. Our enemy is not Annie… but they could be using her to get you exactly down this path. Our enemy could very well be plotting to divide us with this attack. So, again, I must ask you,” there was force and there was power within Erwin’s gaze, yet deep within the blue of his eyes, there was just a hint of a pleading. “Are you certain, you want to do this?”

For what felt like an hour, Armin remained silent and unmoving, meeting Erwin’s gaze without shying or cowering away. Even after that time, the Lance Corporal did not back down and after proving himself serious beneath the veteran’s scrutiny, Erwin let out a slow sigh.

“Excuses do not validate actions, nor do they redeem them, sir.” Armin said at last. “Only blood will.”

It was all Erwin needed to understand, and yet despite the sliver of disappointment, he only nodded instead. “Very well.” The confirmation was soft, slow and steady. “Do as you wish. However, remember that true strength does not lie in the ability to unleash a blade, but to control it.”

To his credit, Armin responded with a nod before placing his fist against his chest in a salute. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you are capable,” Erwin explained as he lowered his head against his pillows. “Levi will be running the expedition. Meet with him.”

Armin’s eyes seemed to have gained their original luster for half a moment. “You… will not be joining us, sir?”

“My place is here, Arlert.” Erwin said with a soft sigh, reaching his hand to grip mindlessly to his leg, his gaze hardened into a rueful gleam, but it was gone in a split second. “I trust you will return soon enough.”

“Yes, sir.” Armin nodded one final time before turning on his heel and walking out the door without another word. When the door shut, the older man returned to staring at the stone ceiling above, finding no comfort in the meager warmth the candle at his side gave, nor the flickering light it doused him in.

* * *

Several hallways away, a different battle was raging, and those who caught sign of it immediately escaped, not wanting to get crossed in a different disaster altogether.

“The _hell_ I am staying.” Mikasa’s words came out bitten, chewed with the force of her jaw and the undeniable rage turning the calm of her gray eyes into a violent storm. Levi did not tremble beneath the force of his fiancé’s anger, knowing full well that this was a battle of which the result was already decided.

“This is not up to discussion.” Levi replied, even and unperturbed. The very second the door closed behind the idiot Lieutenant—after a strenuous amount of congratulatory words and happy words on how this new arrangement will benefit humanity, blah blah blah—he finally seemed to catch the tension brewing between the couple and left. The shock had had enough time to simmer and dissipate, he knew there was only a matter of time before Mikasa understood what this meant, what this new development meant for them in the near future.

One turn of her head and their eyes met in an attack of shades of gray and conflicting emotions. Her first words were clear, showing a lack of desire to hold back when Levi had no choice but to go.

“I am _not_ staying here while you go after her.” er arms were crossing, her feet spreading in a firm stance as she faced him.

“This is not up to you,” He stated clearly, mirroring her stance and tilting his chin up. “The circumstances have changed.”

“The circumstances have not changed!” Mikasa snarled, whipping an arm to the side with a harsh scoff. “What difference does this make? None! I will not stay here to be treated like some kind of precious relic while you are out endangering your life! If I go, I can assist you.”

Narrow eyes hardened into black stones, “I will not place your life in danger, especially not in your condition.”

“My condition is fine! You heard the lieutenant,” She motioned toward the door with her chin. “He was practically singing the joys of my health!”

“He was singing the joys of seeing your bare thighs and escaping with his life.” Levi drawled. “It doesn’t hinder the fact that this changes everything. Endangering your life is one thing. The life of our child…” He trailed off, throat tightening when the words came out. Mikasa’s shoulders slumped for a moment, her hands falling to press against her flat abdomen, and he could see her eyes slowly widen at the realization of what she carried inside her. Levi felt his chest constrict at the sight. He almost felt happy, seeing her standing there and understanding the result of their love and devotion. Yet, the weight of their imminent separation pressed hard against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to bring her with him, to wield his weapons at her side, and the unknown time that would spread between them was beginning to feel like a landscape that was only getting larger and larger by the second.

This seemed to register in her gaze as well, and before Levi could fall prey to her desire to keep their distance at minimal, he set his jaw. “You’re staying.”

The moment was gone and whatever tenderness had taken place within her expression disappeared to stone and steel. Defiant and unwavering, her arms rose again to brace under her breasts, “No.”

A scowl morphed through his face again, “Don’t make me order you.”

“Do _not_ pull the status card here!” She snarled, taking several steps closer to him. “You know full well that the two of us can take Annie down. Our teamwork and combined power will ensure your safety—our safety!”

“We don’t have enough information if the Annie we’re fighting is the same adversary we faced then!” His reasoning was sound, but Mikasa was not giving in. “The last time we both faced her, we were able to take her down but at a cost.” It was low, but when she glanced down at his leg, he knew that she would not deny his point. Still, she retaliated.

“You think that’s supposed to make me feel better?” She spun around, throwing her hands in the air before whirling on him. “If she’s worse, then all the more reason for us to attack her together. You and I both know we are no longer the people we were then. We’re stronger now than before.” Mikasa snapped, fists tightening hard. “Do you not trust us? Do you not trust in me?”

“The ride and the expedition itself will be nonstop,” Levi explained, keeping his voice sharp yet controlled. “We will hardly rest, let alone stop moving. You’ve been along only for a few weeks now. If you miscarry on the journey, priority for your safety and wellbeing will be our biggest downfall in capturing the Female Type. I can’t afford to lose time worrying about you and making sure nothing goes wrong. The situation is dire.”

Mikasa shook her head, black hair swinging against her jaw as she stared him down, “I can handle it!”

Levi flared, feeling his chest feel like it had been set on fire by the accusation in her tone, the flash of hurt pulsing through her eyes. “I will _not_ risk your life and the life of our child for an advantage. I can handle Annie on my own.”

“You just said there isn’t enough information!”

“I am not placing you in danger, Mikasa!” The words were loud. Louder than if he had shouted them. It was not the volume that surprised her, but the spark of desperation that burst from the usual blank poker stare he presented in moments of conflict.

“I would never forgive myself if you…” his voice died as he tore his gaze away, disconnecting just enough to regain composure beneath the weight of her attention. Clearing his throat, Levi slipped one of his hands to run over the black fringe tickling his forehead. “Shit,” he swore after she said nothing, and her eyes were no longer upon him.

“Please,” She whispered, her last offensive strike. Brow crinkled over her forehead, Mikasa nearly hated herself for feeling the familiar sting of tears behind her eyes. “Don’t leave me like this… I just got you back.”

Levi felt much of his argument shake, much of the foundations of his resolve quaking beneath the watery supplication threatening to fall between them. Only she could ever make him feel this way, make his world tremble and cave and spin with just the slightest glance, yet he looked down and his eyes fell over her belly, at where something they _both_ helped create was growing inside her. _Can I even be a good father?_

“What will you want to call it…?” The question surprised her, there was no doubt it did. Before he could help himself, Levi was moving toward her, his hands reaching for her hips as his eyes studied her lower belly.

“I… I don’t know yet.” Mikasa said, her voice small and shaky as he abruptly lowered himself to his knees. The sound of air being yanked into her lungs was the only sound that followed after his knees hit the ground and he pressed his ear to the area. He closed his eyes, wondering, not understanding, but not rejecting the idea that if he were quiet enough he could hear it. “It’s too early to guess…”

“Throw me a few names,” He murmured.

“Now?” She squeaked, “You want to do this right now?”

Gently, he let his hand trail from her hip to flutter over her abdomen, feeling his mouth dry at the thought of picturing her belly swell, the image of _his_ Mikasa pregnant with _his_ child. It was almost too strange to imagine, almost too much to register. He wasn’t sure if it filled him with anxiety or happiness, but whichever it was it made him feel almost sick. Nodding, he brought his eyes back up to hers, and when he did her hand was reaching to cradle the back of his head. “It doesn’t have to be for real… just a few names.”

“But…” the breath hitched in her throat like a sob. Her eyes tightened, filling to the brim with emotions he couldn’t comprehend, but seemed to understand. “We don’t know if it’s a… boy or a girl, yet.”

He didn’t know why, but a bubble of something that tasted like amusement tickled the back of his throat and expelled a soft breath through his teeth. When he looked back down at her womb, he allowed the thought of a smile to ghost over his lips, “I think I know.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes, sniffing. “How could you _possibly_ know?”

“It’s a girl,” he replied, shrugging off her quip. “What would you like to name our girl, Mikasa?”

“I…” her voice was so small, tiny. “I don’t know, Levi…” He could feel the tremors in her hand now, nervously pushing away strands of black from his forehead and he would be loathe to let it get to him, but no matter how hard he tried, Levi couldn’t seem to shake off the warmth and even fear growing in his chest.

“Humor me,” He said. Mikasa exhaled sharply before falling silent, and when he looked back up, her eyes were distant.

“Izumi…” She murmured. No power on this planet could stop him from smiling up at her now, swearing he felt a little flutter beneath his palm at the name. Mikasa’s eyes blinked before looking down, frowning with awe.

“Was that…?” Levi breathed.

“Gas,” She said quickly, dismissing it. “It was just gas.” Yet, even the surety was missing from her voice. Levi let out a soft snort, wondering if it had been just a simple coincidence, only it didn’t stop him from leaning in to press a kiss to her belly.

“Izumi is a beautiful name for our daughter.”

Mikasa gasped out what sounded like a laugh and a groan at once, Levi wasn’t able to tell because suddenly she was falling down to her knees to slam her lips firm against his in a desperate kiss. “You are such an asshole,” She grunted against his mouth, stealing his breath and filling it with short lived joy. Even after they had stumbled to their feet and he was pressing himself over her body on the cot, he could taste her tears and the stubborn way she gripped to his hair.

“I know,” he replied as his lips burned down her jaw and his hands fumbled with the sheer fabric of the hospice gown. Mikasa let out a sharp hiss of pain when the cloth tugged on her wound, but it melted into a moan when her beloved nipped his teeth against the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

Abruptly, her hands landed on his shoulders and pulled him away, drowning them both in the sounds of their heavy breathing and pounding hearts, “I don’t want you to go.”

Levi frowned, “Mikasa…”

“You said it, Levi,” There was no wavering in her voice now. “We don’t have enough information. If I can’t go, then you can’t either.”

A slow gust of air pushed through Levi’s teeth, forcing him to pull his gaze away, unable to agree. “Mikasa, you know I can’t do that.”

She didn’t relent, and the anger and desperation returned back to her voice, lighting her eyes on fire even as she stared up at him with tears dribbling down her cheeks. “There are plenty of soldiers who want her blood and you know it, many of them skilled veterans and survivors.” Levi blinked slowly into her eyes, knowing without the use of a confirmation that she knew that none of them matched his skill. Knew that he was the only one who could match their current enemy. Still, she pressed on. “They can handle Annie, Levi. They can.”

“Mikasa—”

“Fine then!” She exhaled, breathing hard and sounding on the verge of sobbing. “Then, promise me you’ll come back to me. Promise me that or I’ll come after you,” one of her hands reached to grip him tight behind his head, forcing his gaze to remain firm against hers. “Don’t you dare die on me, because I am not raising this child alone, Levi… not without you, alright?”

In the dark of the room, and the faint light of candle and moonlight, Levi lifted a hand to brush the stubborn strand of black hair from between her eyes. With a sigh, he thumbed a stray tear from her skin, “Do you not believe in me?”

At this she scowled at him before closing her eyes. Levi almost smiled again and leaned down to press a kiss against her lips again. “Just answer the fucking question,” She hissed, but did not push him away.

“Alright,” he agreed. “I promise.”

He agreed again even after her hands reached down to yank off his jacket and shirt, fingers fumbled and kisses searing this moment to their skin. With decided movements, they peeled what final boundaries held them apart, expelling and swallowing sighs and moans with each layer removed.

A sudden knock on the door nearly made Levi punch the mattress. “Cadet Ackerman, I’ve brought you’re your ointment!” it was the same lieutenant, voice overly cheerful despite the events of the day. Levi nearly stood up to rip the man in half, yet the grip of his lover’s hold on his skin held him back. Mikasa didn’t seem to care and only brought him down to meet her lips in a ravenous kiss.

“Cadet Ackerman?”

With a grunt, Levi reached over the cot to grab a shoe before throwing it hard against the door. The boot struck the wood hard and through what they could tell they heard a soft squeak before, “I’ll… just come back later then…”

“If he does I’ll kill him,” the Captain breathed against Mikasa’s throat. In response she bucked her hips beneath him and before he could say anything else, her legs were firmly wrapping around his waist and pushing him hard against her. Backs arching, fists clenching over tossed fabric and running down wanton skin, Levi all but ripped the very last inch of clothing off his future wife before burying himself within her tight moans and rambling repetitions of his name. He moved against her as she tasted the inches of his flesh, strongly and withholding no ounce of love back with every kiss, thrust, and caress.

* * *

When green eyes opened, they registered dancing shadows and the flickering light of torches. Scowling, Li pushed herself up to sit up on the strange cot, not remembering how she got to this particular part of the castle. All around her and pressed against the walls of the hallway were cots cradling other sleeping figures.  _What time is it?_

In the midst of disorientation, Hanna Li lifted a hand to brush away the disheveled strands of auburn hair out of her face and away from the corners of her lips. A sour taste burned her tastebuds and made the roof of her mouth feel like sandpaper. With a deep inhale, her body began to stretch out, stopping abruptly and with a strangled groan when a terrible pain shot from her shoulder to throb in every extension of her body. Footsteps came and went through the hallways, and the cold of the night spread numbing fingers through her bare feet. Glancing down, the young woman noticed her body was no longer covered by the ruined material of a bridesmaid’s dress, instead by a thin sheet of what she could assume was a hospice gown.

With her good hand, the Senior Cadet gingerly felt around her shoulder, wincing when her fingers found the bandages and gauze that had been wrapped tightly against the wound on her back. Before she could even attempt to stand up, Li’s mind was slammed with the memory of Riza, laying on the ground and wheezing bloody bubbles through a half smile and frightened eyes.

Stomach churning and heaving, Li doubled over, gasping out a breathy cry, mindlessly searching for anything to retch in. To her relief, a bucket had been placed under her cot. The metal shrieked a short scream as she yanked it away from the cold stone ground and slammed it in front of her. It didn’t matter if she may have woken up the people around her. She focused on the cold grip of the bucket in her palms, the foul taste and smell of bile as it rushed up her throat to expel out of her mouth. Tears burned through her eyes as her body heaved and heaved until there was nothing but cramps in her belly and a sob in her throat.

“Li…?” She heard and when she glanced up she was met with the haggard expression of the last person she expected to see.

“Eren?”

The first thought that went through her mind was how thin he looked. His usually vibrant green eyes were sunken, and his body slumped over a long crutch. Beneath his eyes, harsh stains that looked like burn marks or scales spread around his face, like a mask. Other stains fell down his eyes and cheeks, like tear stains, yet they were darker and broken. He looked horrible.

“What are you doing here?” She croaked, gasping when another heaving jerk left her doubled over her bucket again. The foul smell attacked her nostrils again and when she pulled away he had slowly hobbled over to her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” He said softly before reaching behind her cot to pull up a canteen of water. The liquid sloshed inside its container making her crave the sensation of tasting something else that wasn’t burning bile. Without a word, he handed it to her and watched in silence as she pulled the cork off and poured a great deal into her mouth. Some of it fell down the corner of her lips, dripping down her chin to fall on her chest, it was almost as pleasant as having the water splash down her throat.

After a few more moments, she filled her mouth with water before swashing it around, spitting it in the bucket, Li repeated this process three times before sticking it back under her temporary bed. It didn’t occur to her Eren was watching her until she tossed him a sidelong glance, “…Thanks.”

He only shrugged in response, looking away. “What’s wrong with your leg?” She gestured to the limb he was lifting from the ground lightly.

“Don’t know,” Eren sighed before looking at her cot, as if uncertain. Sensing his hesitation, she moved over slightly before patting the space she had occupied. Still, he seemed to hesitate and after a curious glance from Li, he let out a short sigh. A few steps later and the cot dipped with his added weight, his leg extending out ahead of him. Silence spread between the two of them, neither friends nor strangers, and they dwindled from pressing shoulders together. Despite the strange exhaustion coursing through her bones, Li braced her weight against her palms, not wanting to push a space she didn’t know.

“They say it’s psychosomatic,” He said after the moment of silence was broken by another series of echoing footsteps that bounced off the walls in the distance. “Nothing is wrong with it… but everytime I press my weight on it… I feel pain in my chest, but I also feel it in my leg.”

Li’s eyes slid close and she inhaled, surprised to catch his scent and notice its soothing fragrance. “What happened?”

The air hitched audibly in his throat, and suddenly his hand was pressing down on hers. Li jumped, startled, and he seemed to have felt the same before he was pulling away, “S-sorry…”

“It’s fine.” She shrugged off.

Finally, Eren sighed and braced his elbows on his knees. “You know of what I can turn into,” it wasn’t a question, Li didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Eren proceeded, “I turned into it. A Titan. I didn’t know why, I couldn’t control it…” he trailed off before sucking in a deep breath. “We were coming back, trying to hurry to get to the wedding on time. We were too late, obviously… but, I saw her.”

“Annie.” The name felt like lead and rust on her tongue, making her hands clench tight around the half empty canteen. Eren nodded.

“I fought her. She attacked and we fought, but, I wasn’t able to defeat her.” Turning her chin to look, in the flickering light, she could only see the lower part of his face. His brown hair fell past his eyes, hiding the tortured expression that burned through green and bloodshot white. Just a sliver of his gaze could be seen through the curtain of messy brown strands, the urge to brush the strands away twitched in her fingers and Li almost did. Another memory of Riza dangled behind her eyes, her fingers recalled how, in their youth, the eldest sister had carefully pushed auburn fringe away from bright green gaze and toothy grin. Clenching her fists tight, Li tried to will the sudden lead ton that pressed against her heart, squeezing without mercy.

“She got away?” Li murmured through clenched teeth. Movement to her right told her Eren was nodding before they were doused in silence again.

“I failed.” He breathed out. A thousand brutal words and insults threatened to jump from her mind to lace her throat with vitriol, yet Li contained herself, tired of tasting bitterness in her tongue after such a horrible day.

Instead, she swallowed down hard, and managed to choke out words softly, “You did what you could.”

Eren snorted before turning to look at her, and there was such a damage flame in his green eyes that it took Li by surprise. “It wasn’t enough.” Why, oh why, that ever felt like a slap in the face, Li didn’t know, didn’t know why her grief made her want to make him bleed for saying such a thing. _It wasn’t enough._ Riza was dead, and no matter what Li had tried to do, it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough.

The words burned through her chest to leave her aching for something in her chest. Eren’s eyes widened, shocked, and it took her a moment to realize why. Tears burned down her cheeks faster than she could count and her breathing had gotten tighter, squeezing into tight gasps.

“Li…? I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Shut up.” She ordered quickly, not wanting to hear his words anymore. His mouth clamped shut, yet there was something else in his gaze that made no sense. It made no sense. None of it made sense. Tearing her gaze away, Li tried to control the wave of agony pulsing through her chest and bones, making the throbbing wound on her shoulder feel like hot knives. Yet nothing she could do could help, so she just sat there crying. After a moment, Eren began to move, but something in her couldn’t let him leave. She needed to see green, needed to see his beautiful green eyes that reminded her of a home that was no more.

Her hand jumped out, reaching to grab him and to pull him back down. Li ended up grabbing his left thigh and Eren fell back on the cot with a sharp hiss. “S-sorry,” She exclaimed softly, pulling away from his leg before grabbing for his hand. Why couldn’t her hands stop shaking?

“It’s okay,” Eren sighed, but soon his fingers were wrapping around hers and Li cried. She didn’t want him here. _Tell him to leave._ Yet, she couldn’t. She just couldn’t, and while she half wondered if she could do this in front of a pair of gold eyes and a snarky mouth that tasted bitter and tart, Li leaned down and pressed her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry…” She breathed against the cloth of his shirt, tasting the softness and strength of his smell. The memories were coming on strong, pressing hard on her eyes and squeezing her throat, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why… I’m sorry. You should go. I’m so sorry…”

“Li…” He said softly, sounding both uncomfortable and sympathetic. It was stupid, it was so stupid, but Li didn’t care because she was pushing her head away from his shoulder, fully intending to shove him away. Instead, she got caught within the green of his eyes, the very green that swallowed hers and made her crave a semblance to intimacy. It was the grief, it had to be. She hardly knew him, and she hardly cared.

Reaching up, she grasped his collar, forcing the bangs away from his startled expression before pressing her mouth against his. Eren let out a strangled grunt of surprise, his shoulders rising as she pressed her lips over his over and over. “Li…!” He began, protests muffled before melting away.

It seemed to finally dawn on her on what she was doing because Li was suddenly ripping herself away the instant she felt his hands fall around her waist. Gasping, she furiously rubbed her hands over her eyes, feeling apologies fall down her mouth. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Eren replied, but he was still close, hands still pressed against her sides. The sensation was like relief, gentle and something she found she needed. For the longest time, Li had always kept people at a distance. Pushed them away because she didn’t trust herself to be kind to them, to treat them like people instead of enemies. Yet, her efforts now filled her with regret. In her skewed belief that she was protecting her family, keeping Riza safe, she had only managed to push her away. Now, Riza was gone. The ice structure that had surrounded and kept her safe in the past now proceeded to freeze her and press against her until it burned and hurt.

“Damn it,” She shuddered out, feeling her hands grow wet with tears despite her best attempts to stop herself crying. “Damn it all. Damn it. Why…?”

When she looked up, she could see the same question in his eyes, see the same desolation and need for warmth. _He should go. Tell him to leave. You’ll only drag him down. You’ll drag everyone down._ “You should go,” She said finally, instead her hands were reaching up to push his hair away, sliding down his cheeks to thumb the scale like welts on his face.

“Are you sure?” He asked, softly.

“Yes,” but her hands were clinging to him, shaking against his chest and sending painful tremors over her body. Stupid… so stupid. “No,” Li denied quickly. _I’m so pathetic._ “I don’t…”

Before she could say anything more his mouth was on hers again in a firm kiss. It didn’t taste like Connie’s had. It wasn’t chapped like Connie’s lips. Eren’s mouth was soft and warm, and when his tongue reached to curl around hers, it became almost scalding. The heat spread from her lips to her toes, swallowing her in sweltering pulls, like the tide of a river and the force of thunder.

Connie’s lips and pressure had always been steady, firm. Like earth. Eren was all fire and wind. Why she let him fall above her, run unfamiliar hands up her waist to squeeze her chest in movements that sent tingles flying everywhere, kiss her until she could feel his groans against her throat, Li didn’t know. She just knew she needed this.

And she hated herself for it, and she could taste that same bitter taste on his mouth that she had found in Connie’s. It didn’t register that the source of the flavor was from her own mouth, her own treachery and selfishness, until after she felt Eren stop to hover over her. His green eyes bore into hers, asking a question she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer.

“Not here,” He muttered finally, shaking his head. She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but for reasons unknown, it filled her to the brim with unadulterated fury, made her want to do something reckless and stupid.

“Where are we?” She breathed again, feeling her heart pound in her chest. Eren frowned, confused.

“One of the south halls…”

“The dormitory is close,” Li mused, hand tightening over his clothes. “My room is close.”

He seemed to pull away, reluctant, “Li… I’m not sure if we… Hold on. Are you sure you…? We aren’t even—”

“—Friends, I know,” Li snapped back, narrowing her eyes before staring him down. “I don’t care. I don’t. I just want to feel something else than this.” Eren’s lips tightened into a thin line.

“I can’t love you,” He breathed finally. She dug knives into his eyes with hers.

“I don’t want you to love me,” Li snapped, her hands sliding down his chest toward his abdomen. “I don’t want any of it.” Eren shuddered, gasping out when her hands continued to head south before rubbing her palm over the already hard bulge in his pants. “I know you don’t want it either.”

He looked back up at her, and Li was suddenly under the force of another kiss, feeling it yank her breath clean from her lungs. It felt like a goodbye, and she almost cried when he pulled away, feeling his lips breathe hot air against her ear, when suddenly, he sighed. “Then, let’s go.”

Stumbling, fumbling, rambling, the two of them pushed off the cot, pressing kisses that meant nothing, and touching places that shot fire through their veins. Her chest felt frigid, but the heat he elicited made her almost scream. They found her room just ten minutes later, and when she shut the door behind them, the crutch he had held to help him move fell to the ground with a clatter and his back landed roughly on her bed. Li let out a tight groan when one of his hands jostled her wound, and when he pulled away to apologize, she attacked his lower lip, stopping him from gaining clarity and to leave her when she wasn’t ready to be alone.

Her mind pulled up the image of Connie. Picturing his face instead of Eren’s as he pulled the hospice gown over her head, wondering if his hands would be calloused instead of smooth over the heat of her skin. Li tried to hold herself from caring, wanting to self destruct in this stranger’s embrace. Yet, Eren was so gentle when she wanted him to be rough, to remind her of the pain she had caused and the pain she wanted to push away. All of it went blank when Eren pressed her against the cot, breathing hot gasps of air that felt like steam. His eyes were heavy and dark in the dim light, tongue swiping over his lips before one of his hands trailed between her legs, and after she was finally groaning out and digging nails into his back, after he was pushing his hips against hers and forcing empty moans from their lips, she knew that they were tasting oblivion.

It tasted an awful lot like blood.


	14. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is not light we need, but fire. It is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake." --Frederick Douglass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s inspired tracks are: Rainy Roses by Yuriko Nakamura, Chocolate by Politica, The Clockworks and Terrible Fate by Theopany.

Sasha had not hesitated in the slightest in lifting a strong fist to connect to her boyfriend’s gut. The very moment Connie had wheeled the injured woman around the corner, Jean’s initial rise of relief and happiness fell immediately the moment their eyes met. The look of surprise and even gratitude that had taken hold of Sasha’s demeanor flashed only once before being completely overrun by a terrible anger. Flaring and saying nothing, Sasha waited in simmering patience as Connie brought her closer. Jean, foolishly, tried to sway her anger and eventual curve to violence by choking out her name as pathetically as possible.

“Thank God you’re alright,” the words were half nervous laugh, half breathy squeak. When he glanced up, the tall man was met with Connie’s shaking head and smug expression. No doubt the midget was just drinking up the rare look of fright taking hold of Jean’s face. Before Jean could offer Connie any more scrutiny, Sasha’s face had begun flushing a bright red.

“Is that seriously all you can say, Jean?” The woman asked, fists curling tight on the armrests of the wheelchair. Before Jean could so much as stumble through an apology and excuse, Sasha’s arm was already swinging and knocking out all the wind in his lungs with a fierce grunt.

The air exploded out of his mouth in a sharp, “Oomph!!” Jean nearly fell to his knees, his arms wrapping around his belly, solar plexus screaming in protest. He wheezed, “Sa…sha… what—”

“Do you have _any_ idea how _scared_ I was?” The redhead bellowed, butterscotch eyes piercing and welling up with tears. Guilt jumped to his throat then. “I was surrounded by wounded people, listening to nothing but screaming and crying. After you didn’t show up after nearly _ten hours_ , Jean, I thought you had gotten injured! Or worse, I thought you had died! No one would tell me where you were, and I was stuck with a wounded knee, not to mention I got stabbed in my _hip_! Then here comes Connie to my rescue and what does he tell me? Tell him, Connie. Tell him what you told me!”

The buzz cut nearly jumped, startled at the demand. “Oh no,” he denied, throwing his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I am so not getting—”

Sasha snarled, “ _Connie_!”

“—I said you were alright and that you have been watching over Historia’s well-being.” He supplied with a deflated look. Jean’s eyebrows rose before Sasha was snarling again.

“Now, here’s your turn, asshole!” Sasha crossed her arms tightly, looking up at him with mock expectancy. “Was Connie wrong?”

“Sasha, let me explain,” Jean attempted to speak before she kicked him with her good leg. The tip of her boot collided harshly with his shin and Jean let out a strangled howl before dropping to rub the assaulted area.

“Do _not_ interrupt me, Jean!” She barked, “I was worried sick, you insensitive pig fart! I thought you were dead! I know you were doing a good job watching over Historia, I applaud you! But you couldn’t, for one second, think about me? Did you not worry? Was finding me and holding me when I needed you so hard for you to think about doing after all the shit that happened?!”

“Sasha…” Jean tried again, feeling her words dig the guilt further into his chest like a knife, but she was letting out a frustrated wail before breaking down into tears. Without a warning, Sasha was reaching out from her chair to grab him around the collar to yank him into a tight hug. The unexpected weight of her attack made them fall down, and while Connie had nearly rushed to help them up, Jean had only lifted a hand to stop the other soldier from interfering. “Sasha, Sasha… I’m so sorry.”

“How could you ignore me?” She wept, burying her head against his neck and shaking almost violently with sobs. Grip tightening around her trembling frame, Jean pulled her closer against him before sitting up, her legs pulling up beneath his as Jean tried to open himself up as much as he could for her to wriggle against. “You idiot, you freaking idiot.”

“I know,” He sighed out, taking in her insults without batting an eye. When he looked back up, Connie looked out of his comfort zone, but the short man gave him a half smile after Sasha inhaled and exhaled another bone rattling sob. “I did think of you, Sasha. I was worried that you had gotten hurt too… I was scared like hell… if I had gone to look for you and you were on the list of the dead… I don’t know what I would’ve…” his voice hitched in his throat and it seemed enough for her cries to settle down. Pulling her tighter against his chest, he heard her let out a small groan of pain, but instead of pushing him away Sasha squeezed him back.

“I wanted to look for you, Sash.” Jean admitted softly, “Believe me, I did. But, I couldn’t leave Historia alone. None of us has seen Armin since the attack and I didn’t want her to wake up and find out she was all by herself…”

Sasha pulled away, looking wounded, “I was all by myself, Jean. I needed you and you weren’t there.”

“I know, I know,” Jean said quickly, reaching to press his hands under her jaw and wipe the tears that dribbled down her cheeks. “And I am so sorry, Sasha. I’ll never do it again, I promise. I promise.”

Several moments of soft apologies and coaxing, Jean finally reached to his pocket and pulled out a ruined kerchief and pressed it against her cheeks and under her nose to softly clean her face. As expected, she slapped his hand away and did it herself, but not without a pointed stare that made him wonder if he was in trouble anymore.

“How is she…?” Sasha asked softly after a moment of awkward silence and blowing her nose. She didn’t _have_ to blow her nose, Jean knew this. She did it because she knew it would get under his skin, making it really loud didn’t help, but Jean knew better than to protest. He deserved it.

With a sigh, he carefully pushed them up to their feet, mindful of her knee and injuries before helping her back down on the chair. “She’s… hanging in there.” Jean murmured, feeling the exhaustion of previous crying and stretched emotions weigh him down. When he met their gazes, both Sasha and Connie seemed to have understood the hidden message in his words and they looked away with varying expressions of sadness and sorrow.

“How long…?” Sasha began, but stopped the question from coming out. Golden eyes puffy with tears, Sasha finally shook her head and looked away. Jean’s hand sought hers after her words trailed off, their fingers knotting together and he was relieved when she didn’t pull away.

“Tell us the truth, Jean.” Connie looked into his face again, careful and cautious. “What are the odds?”

Something in the back of Jean’s throat bit down, shoving knives like teeth on his windpipe and making it hard to filter air through his nose. Swallowing down hard, the tall soldier squeezed his girlfriend’s hand tighter, but mindful of the pain she was already suffering through. Alex’s previous look of sympathy and shared pain was the final blow to his chest, ending whatever attempts to speaking Jean tried to shove out. Instead, he just shook his head, eyes downcast.

He could hear their sighs of growing disappointment and grief, compiling together and pushing the atmosphere around them further down over their heads.

“Has… Armin come to see her?” Sasha asked softly, almost whimpering when Jean’s hold got stronger. A black shadow passed over Jean’s face, darkening his eyes into a sharp expression of poignant rage.

“No,” He hissed out through clenched teeth. “…He hasn’t.”

“Do you think he got hurt? Is he even alive?” Connie didn’t fail to notice how Jean’s violent stare down with the ground faltered slightly, as if he hadn’t even considered this information.

“I… I don’t know.” Jean answered reluctantly, but truthfully. Inhaling deeply, the brunet looked toward the door. “I haven’t really had much chance to go and find out…”

“Jean,” Sasha spoke, lifting another hand to grip to his arm and effectively gaining his attention. “When was the last time you rested?”

“I…what?” He sputtered, surprised. Sasha’s eyes hardened.

“You forgot, didn’t you,” She huffed, looking at his rumbled and torn suit. It only occurred to him then that Jean had, indeed, forgotten to change out of the groomsmen suit. Glancing down, he took in the sight of the ruined fabric, gray with dust and torn from escaping from crushed beams and jagged rubble. He didn’t notice the many cuts covering his hands in bright red streaks, and just realized how they stung and throbbed. Sasha’s hand on his arm moved to grip his other extended palm, her fingers padding over the welts and lines of exposed flesh. “Idiot,” Sasha sighed.

Exhaustion pushed through his limbs, filling him with a strange urge to hide that when his arms ripped away from Sasha’s grip, Jean could offer not apology. “I’ll be fine.”

A grip on his suit yanked him down, forcing butterscotch eyes to glare heatedly into his own. “Like _hell_ you will,” She snapped before shoving him to the side. Jean nearly exclaimed in surprise, nearly tripping from the force of her shove. “Connie, you stay here and keep an eye on Historia,” the redheaded woman ordered, her voice firm. “I’m taking my boyfriend to bed now.”

“Sasha, I said I’m—” Jean attempted to begin, only to be silenced by a black glower.

“Not another word from you, Kirschstein,” Sasha hissed. “We’re going to go take a shower and then we’re going to bed, and if you so much as try to argue I’ll put _both_ your legs out, am I absolutely clear?”

Neither of the men dared oppose her, taking to nodding slowly and exchanging nervous glances. “Go on, Jean,” Connie said after the tall man glanced at the infirmary door with reluctance. “I just had almost three cups of coffee, I’ll take over here.”

“Connie, I don’t—” Jean tried again, doubling over when he felt Sasha grab his suit again and tug him forward.

“Come along, Jean,” they were already moving, Sasha’s hand pushing on one of the wheels of her chair, determined. He didn’t have much say, and before he knew it, his hands were gripping to the handles on the back of her chair. With a sigh, Jean allowed his girlfriend to direct him down the halls, offering only short words of agreement and acknowledgment. The last thing he wanted was for Sasha to explode in the middle of the hallways because he didn’t quite feel right leaving Historia alone.

Although, his friends were right. Of course they were right. He hadn’t had any rest for close to an entire day, and considering the extreme circumstances of survival and adrenaline, Jean could feel his body show signs of shutting down. Tingling in his fingertips, spots in his vision, and it only occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. It was almost hilarious, really. A year ago, he would’ve been able to stay awake for three whole days, even after fighting Titans and fighting soldiers alike. Yet, success, it seemed, came with consequences as well. Comfort had made him lazy, dulled his instincts and shallowed his reservoirs—it seemed it took something of this nature to remind him exactly how their lives were. Peace couldn’t be promised forever, and as a soldier, he should’ve remembered this better.

“Jean?” Sasha’s voice broke him from his reverie. Blinking, he realized that they were just inches away from Sasha’s door. When he glanced down, he was met with a concerned look, dampened by tiredness and worry. She reached up, caressing his jaw with tentative fingers, “Are you alright?”

“Fine… fine,” He began before quickly amending with a pinch to his nose, “Just… tired, Sasha.”

“Come on,” She urged gently, tilting her head toward the door. “Let’s get you cleaned up and put to bed… tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

She had no idea just how right she would be. Pushing the door open, the couple slinked into the bedroom to collect a few toiletries and towels. Sasha’s washroom was too small, and so they would have no choice but to head to the communal showers, yet a few jokes from Sasha and eating a few bites from her hidden bread stash (“You’re going to get in trouble,” Jean chuckled with a mouthful. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” She replied, grinning) Jean felt slightly more energetic as they headed toward the showers.

It was late and quiet as they headed back to Sasha’s room, exchanging soft words and conversation in the midst of this strange silence. As they passed a room, the sounds of muffled groans and powerful moaning caught their attention. Flushing, Jean pushed Sasha a little quicker to leave, ignoring her light chuckle at his reaction.

“Kind of crazy some people could be doing it after all that’s happened,” Sasha mused after a particularly loud groan from the fading door. Jean could only sigh in response.

“Don’t expect me to put out tonight,” He grumbled half-heartedly. To his relief, the redhead was snorting loudly before palming her mouth to quiet her sounds of amusement.

“Shame,” She said after her giggles died down, much too quickly for Jean. Quickly, the couple made their way back into Sasha’s room, tucking under her bed sheets before exchanging a few kisses that made Jean’s previous comment fall apart—far too happy to have his beloved safe and warm in his arms.

* * *

Three times.

Writhing and shaking, Li had let Eren under her skin three times that night, collapsing in a fit of exhaustion and falling asleep not long after. After the first time, Eren had laid by her side, gasping out in rhythm to her soft panting and when he had risen to pull on a shirt, Li had become overwhelmed with the urge to pull him back. Having already given in to the yank of urges, she had not hesitated to grab him around the wrist and yank him on his back before she wriggled on top of him and kissed his protests away.

“Li… _mm_ … I should… _mmm…_ get going…” He had attempted to sway her, yet her lips stopped his words, her fingers working around the scars and lines of his figure until he had no choice but to comply.

“No…” She breathed as she pushed herself above him, peering down at him with tearstained eyes and a flush to her cheeks. “Stay.” Their movements clumsy, their actions driven only by need rather than emotional connection, Eren gave in to her pulls and nibbles, gasping out when her teeth bit down on his collarbone and all manner of coherent words escaped him.

The third time had come after she had parted from his skin, pushing herself to sit at the edge of her bed and stare into the threshold of her window. What moonlight cascaded through was dim and faltering, the once radiant disk had become a simple sliver that resembled a grin. Silence spread between them like an awkward tension, dousing them both in a strange limbo of ‘what now’ that could not be sated by questions or answers of any kind.

“I should go.” Eren muttered after, he also, pushed himself from the bed to stare at a vacant spot on the ground. The sight of strewn clothes and tousled sheets was sore to his eyes, and no matter how much the tingling in their skin faded, the actions that had stained their bodies with sweat and dried spit would not be easily forgotten.

“Was it…” Li’s voice suddenly came from the foot of the bed. Her legs pulled up to press against a bare chest, yet given the lighting, Eren would be unable to see much anyway—still… it was hard to forget how it felt. After a strange lull, the auburn haired woman cleared her throat, and sighed. “Was that your first time?”

He had had no answer for that, eyes widening in surprise, he simply sat for a moment and unsure if he should be honest or not. Despite its innocent air, the question felt loaded. Hesitant, Eren decided to answer after another short silence, “…Yes… was it yours?”

She was not looking at him, instead her head bobbed up and down slowly. Unsure how to move forward or to stand and leave before she could ask him anymore, Li’s head tilted up, “Not bad for your first time, Eren.”

“Oh… uh… thanks?” he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, uncertain if her words were in jest or something else entirely. Li was such a bombshell, it was hard to tell what set her off. “You were pretty good too…” He added lamely.

“I guess I’m just a natural.” The words fell like lead, unexpressive and hard to understand when motive came into play. Even after she had said that, Eren wasn’t sure whether to humor her and chuckle, or to leave. He wasn’t sure if she would take him leaving alright. The last time he had tried to push away, she had all but attacked him and ridden him until they were both groaning loud enough to wake the castle. While as enjoyable as that was, Eren was already exhausted enough as it was.

“Li…” he began before trailing off. He had no idea what to say, really. There was too much he didn’t know, and despite his cautious approach, he didn’t want to set her off again. After a moment, she turned and sighed, the faded moonlight bouncing off her green irises in an expression so wretched it yanked at his heart strings.

“You can go,” she whispered, looking away and he was strangely caught with how her hair slipped over her shoulder to hang above a pale breast. Li had not bothered to cover herself with a sheet or blanket, and despite their flushed actions, the cold of the night was already beginning to permeate through the fogged glass of her window. A shiver rushed up his spine, yet from the cold or from her expression, Eren couldn’t tell. He should go. He knew that he should reach down, snatch up his clothes and escape as fast as he could before anything else happened. Yet, something kept him glued to his seat, his eyes remaining on this girl’s face and it struck him moments later, that her expression was not unlike the one he had felt when Levi’s squad had been killed. Torn, broken, and with just enough self-deprecation that it made it difficult to unrelate.

“Who did you lose?” He asked despite the instinct to run and escape. Her eyes tightened and if it were any brighter, Eren would’ve most likely seen the full vulnerability exposed over the shards of green that covered her eyes.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now…” She choked out slowly, throat tight before she turned away from him. Her bare back faced him, her hands rising to cradle her shoulders in a closed position. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for… sharing this with me.”

Slowly, Eren nodded, swallowing back thickly. He glanced down, gripping his thigh tightly with a hand. Theirs was a mess he had no idea how to clean up. No clue on what to do, no sight on what the right choice would be. It was simple, really, what they had done.

Li used him for a temporary release, seeking out a means to drown out the pain of loss and the anger of helplessness through passion and powerful throes of pleasure. Yet, equally, Eren allowed himself to drown in her eagerness, used her to distract his thundering mind from the words and argument that had split between and Armin.

Armin…

Historia…

Mikasa…

Where had everything gone so wrong?

This night was supposed to have been one of dancing and festivities. He should have walked his best friend and wife to their chamber, teased and crowed with the rest of the soldiers at the imminent consummation between husband and wife. Instead, blood, rather than spilt wine, was being scrubbed from floors and rubble pushed aside to expose more lives lost.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Eren said, lifting his head to face Li’s exposed back. He couldn’t just leave her… He knew what could happen if he did. Carefully, the titan shifter inched closer to the auburn haired senior cadet. He stopped just an inch away from her, and while she had not moved, he could see the tension brewing beneath her muscles, the desperate clinging to something akin to normalcy. “I’m sorry…”

He heard the air hitch in her throat, lodge against her teeth like a stone. With profound sensitivity, Eren slowly leaned his head against her shoulder, his lips finding purchase against the smooth curve of a shoulder blade. Gently, he kissed his way up her skin to meet the junction of her shoulder and neck. Behind closed lids, he wondered if this is how it would feel to do the same to Annie. He wondered if she would ever-so-slowly ease against his ministrations, the tease of lips against muscle.

“I’m so sorry,” He exhaled a shuddering breath, and he could hear her shatter slowly beneath his mouth.

“Please, don’t.” Li whispered back, her voice high and bleeding. “Don’t, Eren.”

Despite her words, the tone her voice carried shot through him like an arrow, he just couldn’t let them stop him. “I am, Li. I am sorry.”

He finished by gently brushing her long red hair over her neck to expose more skin and the walls that were crumbling around her. When Li turned around, he had half expected her to attack him again, to attempt to drown in his hands and spiral into oblivion. Instead, she all but threw herself into his embrace and sobbed. Her body trembled beneath his fingertips, the pads of her fingers clenched against his ribs and shoulder.

When she pulled away, she was nodding, looking up at him through a watery gaze that was still slow to open before him. Eren didn’t want to open her, he didn’t want to see what was inside. He doubted even he would be ready to see that side to this woman. A woman he hardly knew, but had found a strange comfort that could be found nowhere else. Blinking, his mind took him to an image of blue eyes and blonde hair. A punch in the chest would’ve been less painful.

Li blinked away tears before letting her eyes fall over his lips, and Eren knew he had inhaled sharply. None of them moved for a moment and instead of the violent press he had become acquainted with, Li softly tilted her chin to brush moist lips against his. Eren could do nothing else but return it, offering the only thing he could, feeling a slight satisfaction that he was still able to help someone… even if there were so many others broken.

He should’ve been there…

Gentler than before, Eren had turned the young woman to press her against the sheets, feeling her shudder beneath his fingertips. They did nothing, but touch and kiss until her tears ran dry, finding solace in touch and expelling fractions of pain that was still too powerful to overcome. Touches moved slowly, tentatively, but surely. Greater needs pulsed heat through their skin again, pushing soft moans from her lips and grunts of effort from his. Making connection was easier now, more natural.

She was begging him now. Pleading without demanding what she wanted, just to meet release. With a series of powerful thrusts and grinding skin, he watched her fall apart. Li threw her head back in a soft cry, tensing up so deliciously around him, Eren had no other option than to press his forehead against her damp collarbone and follow. When he collapsed back against the pillows and sheets, all manner of thoughts to leave had gone. Arms tight around her waist, Eren pulled her flush against his chest. Li let out a soft exhale of contentment, yet even that sounded broken and pained.

He waited until her eyes fluttered close and her breathing evened out. He waited until his bones begged him to rest and the pain in his leg faded to the darkness of his mind.

When he woke, it was to gray light and the memory of words spat out and angry blue eyes. Despite their tangled limbs, Li was turned away from him, and his eyes rested on the flat of her wall… he had half a mind to wake her, to let his hands fall through the valleys of her skin and the mounds of flesh she had supplicated for him to caress. Yet, his limbs refused to listen, his mind was decided to remind him of such a predicament.

Waking up to a room of doctors had been no surprise to him, the evening prior. His body had been attached to a familiar IV line, and his eyes ached something violent.

 _“Don’t try to get up, Eren.”_ They had told him. Yet, despite their soothing words, no one could bear to look at him. _“Just rest, Eren.”_

_“You’ll be alright, Eren.”_

_“Why does my leg hurt?”_ He just wanted to know what was going on, just wanted to understand why people looked so angry, so wretched. _“What’s going on, where’s Hanji?”_

No answers, just silence and simple repetitions of orders for him to lay back down and rest. His limbs felt stretched, numb and wobbly. As if someone had replaced his arms and legs for the wiggly substance named gelatin. For hours, he had been left in the dark. For hours, Eren had sat and allowed a nurse to pour solutions in his eyes and to test his vitals. He felt fine. He knew he was fine. The bite marks that had littered his hands in painful crescents and bloodied bandages were gone, replaced by smooth skin and no evidence of injury. Exhausted, he certainly felt, and despite his desire to get information, his eyes soon closed and he fell back asleep.

When he woke again, it had been to a dark room and a figure slouched on a chair by his bedside. It took him ridiculously long to realize who it was, eyes widening when he recognized the mop of blond hair and vacant blue eyes. _Armin…_

Without greeting or expected words of information, Armin had simply glanced up to stare into his eyes before saying, _“I’ve been told you fought her.”_

 _“Fought who…? Armin…?”_ great was the disorientation that jumbled his mind, unable to understand why his friend looked so flat when a bright hello or a semblance to emotion had been expected.

 _“Annie.”_ There was no denying it. Eren had nodded slowly, confused and feeling something curl within his chest in anxious twists. Armin looked away before crossing his fingers together, _“I’m going after her, Eren.”_

_“Armin, what’s going on? Why would you want to…?”_

In a strange turn of unusual events, Armin cut him off sharply, eyes narrowing into cold stones, _“I’m telling you this now because you deserve to know. You should know. Annie didn’t just appear, Eren. She attacked the castle.”_ What…?

 _“I waited for you,”_ Armin had proceeded, displaying nothing. No pain, no disappointment. Speaking as if he were speaking of battle strategies and cold decisions made in snow. _“But you never came. We had begun the ceremony…_ ” At that, Armin stopped altogether, inhaling through clenched teeth until he met Eren’s eyes. _“Historia is dying, Eren. And it is all Annie’s fault.”_

Words perished swift and merciless in Eren’s throat. The cold fingers of denial wrapped and warped around the confines of his chest, squeezing tight and making air refuse to filter through his lungs. He wondered vaguely if he would ever be able to breathe right again. Without ceremony, Armin had jumped into explanations that stuck to Eren’s mind like writhing flies caught on flypaper. _Attack… Half the Dining Hall destroyed… hundreds dead… wedding ruined… Historia dying…_

_Historia dying…_

Historia dying…

Annie’s fault.

 _“Wait…”_ Eren had begged after forcing himself to place his feet on the ground. The movement surprised a torrent of agony through his leg and Eren nearly collapsed when the limb protested loudly. _What…?_ As true to his best friend’s character, Armin had risen and slowly helped Eren back on the cot. Only, he refused to meet his gaze and retreated back to his chair, yet the blond soldier didn’t take his seat.

 _“I came to tell you that I will be going after Annie, Eren,”_ Armin had supplied after the titan shifter was able to get the agony under control. He could hardly do even that. _“I’m going after her, and I’m going to make sure she pays for what she has done.”_

This wasn’t Armin. This wasn’t the Armin Eren had grown up with. Gone was the gentle soul that had constantly reminded Eren of his humanity, that it was real, when so many people denied it. In its place stood the icy resolve of someone ready to exact vengeance. Eren wasn’t sure how much shock he would be able to handle.

 _“Armin, wait, hold on. Let’s talk about this…”_ The Lance Corporal shook his head once, effectively silencing the arguments hopelessly filling Eren’s chest.

 _“Don’t try to stop me,”_ Armin said slowly, but clearly, only then did Eren see how his friend’s hands remained fisted tight at his sides. _“I know you love her… and I am sorry for that.”_ A stunned and helpless silence followed, leaving the titan shifter to gape wordlessly at his best friend, overwhelmed. Without another word, Armin blinked those cold blue eyes on Eren, nodded and swept out of the room with a turn of his heels. The door slid shut not long after that and left the dark haired man to his thoughts.

Turmoil was all that could describe this myriad of emotions. The whirlwind ripped without mercy into his heart, crunching his thoughts like branches and leaving him to ponder the remains. How… how could all of this get so wrong? People walked into his room, no one familiar after Armin’s disappearance. Eren had half-hoped Mikasa would come to see him, to explain what had happened and why his best friend was suddenly out for blood instead of reason.

Vaguely, he remembered the nurses help him to his feet. Registering pain without truly being there, and he listened mutely as his doctor explained that nothing was wrong with his leg… that it would pass soon.

“Where is Major Hanji?” no one answered, no one looked at him. Eren was alone.

As the dark became present, and the cries and shouts of the pained and the broken subsided, Eren had reached over and pulled the IV from his elbow. He nearly bit his tongue in aggravation when the small squirt of blood that escaped after the needle disappeared in a flash of steam and stitching skin. Even though the skin patched itself up, he could still feel the sting… that should have mattered at least. But it didn’t.

Thankfully, the nurses had left him a crutch, in case he needed to get up to go to the bathroom. So, he grabbed it and walked, feeling restless and anxious, hoping that if he found Armin—or anyone—he would be able to make sense of all this mess.

Instead, he had found Li. This girl, whom he had spoken to very few times, and had hired as a stripper for Armin’s Stag… He didn’t know her. But he had seen the way she peeled off her clothes, the strange far off look in her eyes… and when he knew he should’ve turned and kept going, something pulled him to her.

Everyone was so busy avoiding him, that when she met his gaze—green for desperate green—he had been strangely found needing. She needed him. Be it a supposed suicidal tendency, or the hero complex his companions had teasingly called him out on, Eren knew he wanted to do something for this stranger yet not stranger.

Her mouth on his, it was off, but it was nice. He would hate himself for trying to picture Annie instead of her, and when Li dragged her hands down his body—he liked to wonder if Annie would do the same. Instead… Annie was gone. Somewhere. And now, his best friend would be on his way to kill her. _Why was life so hell bent on ruining his life?_

In the end, he had given and viciously taken from Li, only to be taken and given just as much from her. It should’ve been wrong. He should have remembered that Connie was growing warmer to this girl, and that she was fit for him—but anger made him selfish, and he allowed himself to bite into the rage boiling into her blood and made him feel less alone.

_Dammit._

Movement seeped into his spine from behind, alarming Eren of Li’s wakefulness. Turning, he found her facing away. There was no moonlight now. Silver veins of battle and sacrifice ran in mismatched patterns on pale skin, disappearing the moment Li slipped a sheet over her shoulders. In the pale light, her hair fell in burned colors, like the last flicker of embers before they die. The imagery is so profound, Eren is unable to see anything else until she moved and let out a long sigh.

“Do you often move restlessly when you sleep?” She asked without warning, he was almost surprised she seemed to have known he was already awake.

“Did I kick you?” Li looked back at him, eyeing him with green eyes that, under the light, looked as pale as the skin she wore. A small smirk quirked her lips for a moment before she reached over and flicked his cheek with a finger. Eren let out a grunt before rising up on the bed, strangely tempted to wrap his arms around her waist to pull her back against his skin.

“I’m sore,” She explained and stood. “A hot shower sounds great.”

 _Want me to join you?_ Yet the words never found their way to his throat and the thought made his stomach clench. Biting down on his lip, Eren simply nodded and shifted until his feet were on the ground. The cold wasted no time in sinking through his toes, rising through his legs and forcing shivers to spread everywhere. “Li,” he heard himself speak, fingers working together uncertainly. He didn’t need to look up to know she was looking at him now. “What… is this?”

Perhaps it was too early to try to define it, and he regretted asking when he heard her suck air sharply. “It’s nothing,” She said, almost whispering. “I don’t love you or anything. Nothing’s changed.”

 _That third time shouldn’t have happened._ It had felt too gentle, too intimate. Eren nodded, he chanced a glance up at her and saw how her hands were fisted around the fabric of the sheet. Her green eyes pointedly staring elsewhere. “It was a one time thing,” Li said. When her eyes looked at him, he could feel the cold wrap around his shoulders.

“It was nothing,” She repeated clearly. Her words didn’t surprise him. He felt no disappointment, he felt nothing. Just cold.

“It was nothing,” He parroted, and with a small, almost unnoticeable quirk of her lips, Li shrugged the sheet off her skin. The fabric pooled by her ankles, exposing the naked curves of the back of her body and just like that she was disappearing behind the door to her washroom. The sight of her body under the pale morning light surprised him, made his throat tighten. _It was nothing._ It didn’t feel like nothing, but it didn’t feel like something either.

 _“I’m going after her,”_ Armin’s words slapped him back to his seat. The sheets were worn and stiff, wrinkled and losing the warmth shared quickly to the cold. Eren let out slow sigh, clenching fingers that felt new and perfect. Shoving the sheets aside, Eren braced himself before slowly pushing his weight on his legs. Pain shot through his left leg, making him almost crumble to the ground. Instead, he clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stand straight.

Eren was no fool. He knew what would happen now. Sleep had hardly helped, yet there was a collected clarity brimming to the surface of his mind, like a thirst quenched or a hunger quelled. The shock, the silence… it all bled away to a newfound resolve that surged through each muscle and each strand of vein that branched into his limbs. No longer did he frantically search for alternative routes, honing down on the one decision that was left for him to take.

The sound of water rushing through pipes and drains sloshed through his ears. Eren bent down and snatched his pants from the ground. In certain moves, he clothed himself, focused and pensive as he considered what options were available to him.

Armin… and no doubt so many others were preparing themselves to hunt Annie down, to avenge the blood spilt by her hands. Leaving no one else but him to do what needed to be done—to find answers and, hopefully, clear Annie’s name from the death list screaming for justice. It pained him, made the ache already throbbing in his chest serve as further spurs against his side. The last thing Eren had ever wanted would be to turn against his best friend, the last thing he wanted was for any of this to happen.

Only it did.

The choice was simple.

Annie… or Armin.

Eren would choose to save them both. And so, he had no choice but to act on his own… He had to.

Belts tied and fingers stilling over threads, Eren stepped away from the bed, his green eyes taking a final look around the room he had spent the night in. The sight of papers and a lone pen and ink set on top of Li’s work desk caught his eye. He almost hesitated before setting his lips in a fine line. _It would be the right thing to do…_

Hoping Li wouldn’t mind, Eren stepped over toward the materials on top of the woman’s desk. Sitting down, the titan shifter grabbed the slim pen, uncorked the ink jar, and set himself dedicated on this next task. The sound of the pen nib scratched and sung in harmony to the sound of Li’s shower, allowing his mind to focus on the words he wrote.

_Mikasa,_

_I’m sorry…_

This was a threshold that stood above his head like death. With words scribbling down, Eren set his shoulders and stepped through.

He was not afraid.

* * *

Night passed in silence. The sort of silence that worked like a tide, ebbing and crashing against the nerves and foundations of all who were struggling to stay afloat in the flood of the previous day’s events. Conversations were light, but gray. Hopes, were no longer looked upon with any seriousness. It would be foolish to assume an optimistic view considering humanity’s luck. The bitter need not speak out their internal rants of ‘I knew it’ and ‘I told you so,’ shockingly aware of the breaking hearts of all the naïve, and so this silence raged.

And it raged for several days.

And nights.

Nights, in which were split between the lonely…

_Eren let out a sharp gasp, collapsing on his back and feeling auburn hair stick to his collarbone. Li breathed beside him, eyes distant, yet her hold upon his skin remained firm and unshaking. “You should tell him…” He said, feeling a stone wedge between his heart and lungs upon seeing Connie at breakfast that day. Two nights… they’ve been at it for two nights._

_“He doesn’t need to know.” Li replied before ripping herself off his skin, like an adhesive ripping from sensitive flesh. Eren loathed himself for strangely missing her presence. “He doesn’t belong to me anyway. No one does. Not anymore.”_

The desperate…

_He trained even as he felt agony course through his limbs. Yanking sharp grunts that he masked with effort and exuberance. Instead of giving in to the shrieks of tearing muscle fibers, Armin forced his limbs to slug the heavy punching bag further. He didn’t care if he bled at all._

_She still wasn’t waking… he dared not approach…_

_For fear that if he did, it would be to failing news and deeper sorrow. So, Armin ate, and slept, and focused. Preparing himself for the expedition that would decide their fates, and the vengeance his Historia’s spilled blood demanded._

The stubborn…

_“You’re sure you’ll be bringing enough blades?” Mikasa asked, clenching her hands against her elbows, her face the perfect slate of boredom and disinterest. He knew better, judging her the paleness of her knuckles and the short breaths of frustration that poured out of her._

_“The team will be able to take her,” Levi’s voice was the same the fiftieth time around as it was the first time he explained. “We have all the appropriate equipment and special plans. Capturing her will be simple.”_

_“But not easy,” Mikasa retorted and when he slid a palm against her cheek, she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She would not tell him that she would follow. He wouldn’t have that. So, her tongue remained still and his eyes never left hers—glinting with suspicion, but speaking of nothing._

The disappointed…

_“Captain Levi asked us specifically to go along, Sasha…” Jean said as his hands worked on calibrations and blade work. The woman remained silent, brooding in her chair and openly glaring at her injured leg._

_“I don’t like it,” She huffed, fervently making a show of crossing her arms and blowing hot hair through her teeth to flap against trespassing bangs. “You, Connie, and Armin, I have no doubts, but Mikasa isn’t being allowed to go… and Eren has been forbidden to take part. Annie has killed brigades bigger than you… It’s not that I don’t believe in you, Jean…”_

_Calloused hands ceased in their concentrated ministrations. Jean rose and looked up at the woman that sat by him, watched how her lips creased in a set of crestfallen wrinkles and her eyes refused to look at him. “Sasha,” He tried, turning to fully face her, only to be interrupted._

_“I should be on that squad. Our old squad survived the Final Conflict, survived getting killed. We’re a team. Splitting us up right now it just…” She broke off, biting down on her lip before grunting out a short breath of frustration. “I just don’t see why they can’t wait a bit longer for me and Mikasa to heal…”_

_“The trail will have gone cold by then,” Jean supplied with a one shouldered shrug, yet his face regarded her seriously and took her flat glance with stride. “I know that this frustrates you. Hell, it frustrates me… No disrespect to Fitz and Alex or anything, but I would rather have you fighting at my side than them, Sasha. You know that…” He emphasized this by inching closer and pressing a palm to her hand and squeezing gently._

_Jean soldiered on, “I don’t know how long this will take, Sasha, but I’ll be writing you, making sure you are involved in everything we are… and when you’re ready,” He blinked amber eyes deep into her own. “Find us.”_

And the oblivious.

 _“You can stop your fretting now, for God’s sake,” Hanji exhaled through quirking lips._ It was now Tuesday. A day drowned in gray skies and dropping temperatures, yet despite this dreary wake, the redheaded woman was smiling and writing down information in a journal that’s seen better days. At her sides moved a couple of nurses, a man and woman who would move in careful movements around her. Checking up on her vitals, asking her if she needed more pain medication and exchanging strange glances when she waved them off, eventually they would sigh to themselves before leaving out the door.

When the door slid close, Hanji’s lips would tighten in the expression Moblit had come to recognize as one withholding amusement and a focus for the work at hand. He had seen it many times over the years, after she had said a particular silly joke when everyone around her was busy sweating, or the timing was off. He was at his usual spot, by her side, patient and silent as she scribbled down information with a familiar manic speed that would have made him smile as well… if not for the news weighing on his mind.

Sure enough, the skrit skrit skritting of Hanji’s pen upon paper was unable to dam against the tension curling through his ears like smoke. “You got something to say, then say it, Moblit,” Hanji said, not bothering to look him up and despite the whimsical tone her voice danced with, her eyes had sharpened over the pages now covered in cryptic script.

“There’s not much to say…” He replied, as evenly as he could. It was a good thing he had gotten used to Hanji’s abrupt wit, although sometimes she still startled him. “I’m just concerned…”

“Concerned?” Hanji chuckled, “A slight cut and new information, I may as well be jumping around.”

“Please don’t, Major,” Moblit implored with a tired glance, “You’ve already ripped through your stitches once.”

“Can you blame me?” Hanji asked with a blinding smile, flashing her eyes over to him once before her hands continued their rapid swoops over the papers. “It’s ridiculous how long it’s been since we’ve been able to go on a capture expedition! Granted, we’re dealing with a titan shifter instead of a regular Titan, but nevertheless, the chase will still be thrilling! Just think of the new data we can gather, Moblit! By all means, Annie shouldn’t have not even survived the Final Conflict, and yet here she is! I am just dying to find out how much she knows and what she’ll be able to tell us… take into consideration what the hell happened, and the _experiments_!” The mad scientist nearly threw herself back on her pillows, fingers wriggling with excitement.

“Think of all the experiments we can do on her now! I mean, I know at this point Erwin will want to keep her alive until we can figure out what the hell is going on and what side she’s on. Not to mention all the blood thirsty people who want to chop her head clean off, but if we play our cards right, we may be able to sneak in a few good scientific method ruled experiments on her! I can just taste the answers waiting to be discovered!” It was almost heart warming, seeing her go about like she used to. How her cheeks would flush in excitement as she considered the opportunities of gaining more knowledge, of bringing in the upper hand. Of course, Moblit knew that some of those ‘experiments’ will be Hanji’s way of indulging darker motives that clung to the back of her eyes like the glints of hidden steel. She would be getting her own way of achieving revenge for attacking them and catching them off guard.

Yet, the weight pressed tight against his nape, not unlike the firm threat of a steel blade from their gear. Moblit could only think to himself, uncertain how this news would be taken… how Hanji would handle it.

“Sir,” He began with extreme caution, “Maybe we should just… wait until they return with the Female Type.”

“Nonsense, Moblit,” Hanji waved off flippantly, still scribbling who knew what on a new page. “First contact was always our Squad’s expertise, not to mention the capture will need to be executed efficiently. Who better than us?”

“Understood, sir,” Moblit said slowly. Now it was almost completely impossible not to fidget. This sort of news was not hard to have revealed to the Commander. The dark haired man had had his anger and frustration commit to putting any fears of revelation to death. Having to deal with his squad leader injured heavily was one thing… having her out of commission because she was now with child—and not just any child, Commander Erwin’s child—was something on another league entirely. Erwin handled the news as Moblit had expected, decisions were made for the protection of the mad scientist… and now, all that remained was the heavy choice of telling her now or later.

The following Monday, after Hanji was finally placed out of the sedatives that kept her under during her surgery, the decision to tell the woman of her current situation became something of a ping pong match. While Erwin wanted nothing more than to tell her that she was with his child, (for various reasons. One being that she ‘deserved to know,’ another being that they would be in trouble if she did know, because how do you predict that sort of reaction from a person so eccentric? And finally, because keeping another secret from her would put them at the biggest odds—yet again—and Erwin wanted none of that whatsoever). While on the other hand, Captain Levi had made it painstakingly clear that Hanji’s safety would remain less compromised if she didn’t know she was pregnant until it was absolutely obvious and no other choice remained.

While Moblit agreed heavily with the Commander on the fact that keeping secrets from Hanji was not wise, he knew that if she did become aware… it would be that much harder to keep her safe. At first, Moblit was certain he would keep the information secret, convinced that the short Captain’s logic was sound. However, the moment he saw her looking up at him through dirtied spectacles and tousled hair that fell around her shoulders, Moblit knew that keeping this sort of information away from her would only cause them more harm than good in the future.

That very next morning, which brings us to this moment, is where we now view Moblit Berner, struggling to let loose this precarious update, hands steady despite the heavy packet bearing his signatures with the preparedness he was willing to take. All for the sake of protecting a woman who had become the closest thing to a soul mate he has ever had.

“Sir, you’re still injured,” he motioned to the wound stretched over her belly and hidden within the mounds of fabric surrounding her waist. “The last thing we need is having you rip your stitches for a capture mission. This isn’t the first time we’ve waited here for new subjects… please, reconsider.”

“The injury is not that bad, man,” Hanji sighed, eyebrows knitting over her nose as her brown eyes scanned back and forth over a particular entry. With a purse of her lips, her hand reached up and ripped the paper away, balling it up quickly before tossing it over her shoulder to join the growing pile of rejects. “Besides, we’ve still some the newer balms from the Merchant’s Guild. One of them, if I’m correct, allows skin to patch itself back up quicker than before. Great stuff, that lot brings in. Once I apply that, it’ll only be a matter of time and we’ll be able to meet up with Levi’s squad.”

Moblit could feel himself grasping at straws now, hands clenching and unclenching over his knees. In the distance, they could hear the faint sound of rolling thunder. The promise of rain becoming more and more real as the skies refused to show any hints of blue beneath their rolling gray dominion.

“Sir, I just don’t think it’s wise,” He insisted. Hanji flipped through another page, one single eyebrow lifting as a sign she was still listening. The weight was beginning to press harder against his stomach, filling his fingertips with nervous twitches. “The timing isn’t right, our preparations… It would be wrong to leave the castle now after its need for reconstruction.”

“You’d rather I heft blocks of concrete over the giant hole in the Dining Hall?” Hanji asked with a dubious chuckle. “I know that’s not going to be good for me. Poor alternative, Moblit.”

“Perhaps not lifting blocks, more like directing them. The Commander needs more help in relaying orders… he still hasn’t been able to walk, yet.” He knew bringing up Erwin was as close to a taboo topic as it was going to get, yet Hanji’s gaze showed no kind of emotion, even if her writing slowed down some.

“He doesn’t need me,” She said after a short second of silence, sounding more subdued than Moblit wished. “Rico Brzenska has been doing real well for him, most of the soldiers are half in love with her already. I’m better off riding out with Levi.”

“With all due respect,” Moblit tried again, “but it is still you they respect, sir. Above the Squad Leader.”

At this, she gave him a tight grin, one that spoke of a threat and not a good territory for him to wade in. Even so… there was no going back now. “Major, there’s some news—”

“Moblit, pass me the ink bottle, would you? I’m running out here.” Hanji interrupted, extending an expecting hand and wiggling her fingers in a ‘give it here’ gesture. Moblit did as told, inhaling shallowly.

“Some new information has been brought to light.” Perhaps a more delicate approach?

“If it’s to do with Eren’s bloody tears, I’ve already been made aware.” Hanji spoke before he could finish, “The psychosomatic limp, however…” She trailed off, teeth finding the tip of her pen. “That’s new.”

“It’s not to do with Eren, sir.” Moblit clarified.

“Shame, because I’d love to know more about that limp, Moblit…” Hanji sighed, tapping the pen against her nose before flipping a few pages.

Moblit could do this no longer. With a firm clearing of his throat, the Deputy Lieutenant firmly spoke, “ _Major Hanji_.” It did the trick. Hanji was looking up at him with a curious expression. He could not wilt now, could not allow her blissfully ignorant expression to punch a hole in his resolve. She had to know. She needed to know. It was for the best.

Inhaling through his teeth, Moblit braced himself as best as he could, “Your surgery came back with an unexpected result. Lieutenant Alfons discovered it. It’s not a disease or a debilitating issue…” he nearly bit his tongue at that slip. He was rambling now. _Get to the point._ “It’s not a matter of life or death. However… it is undeniable.” To his surprise, Hanji said nothing. She stared at him, brown eyes taking in his serious expression and nervous appraisal with no warning on what was to come. Her silence spurred him forward.

“Hanji,” He said softly, eyes crinkling when hers widened at this rare happenstance he called her by name sans military title. She was so still… as if sensing the bomb that now fell in muted drops.

Slowly, Moblit exhaled. “You’re pregnant… with Commander Erwin’s child.”

The sound of her pen falling off her fingers was swallowed by the sound of crashing thunder.


	15. Begin The Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is madness for sheep to talk peace with a wolf.”   
> –Thomas Fuller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s inspired tracks are: ‘Status’ by Hans Zimmer, ‘Who Lived Here?’ and ‘Craco’ by Hauschka, ‘SHERlocked’ by Michael Price and David Arnold, ‘A Stutter’ by Olafur Arnalds, and ‘Not In Blood, But In Bond’ by Hans Zimmer.

Dawn loomed over the dark horizon in gentle increments of blues and indigos. First light came like a thief in the night over the sleeping and the unknown. The dark corners of the forests receded, shadows faded warily beneath the incoming onslaught of morning and day. Many would miss this careful moment of silence, where this scrap of world remained in a steady awe or taken by the warps and weaves of sleep imagined lands.  Only a few would witness this usual yet secret time, too preoccupied by thoughts and exhaustion, worries and conflicts, to truly be witness of it.

Fewer would relish the slow passing of night. Others dreaded it.

Only one, of these rare few, would stare at each growing color and each fading of a star with a focused brooding.

This pair of golden eyes beheld the end of night with a tight lipped expression and a fist clutched to a wound. Escaping from a room with other fallen and injured was as easy as falling asleep. Steps had been taken carefully and slowly, while those eyes studied the surroundings and wondered at the moments to come. It was not with any interest toward the optimist side that would now cling like weak cobwebs to those directly affected by the wedding’s disastrous events, but with a calculated focus that did not leave room for exhaustion or other emotion, for that matter.

Avoiding guards and watchful eyes was a simple thing. Those watchful eyes would be too concentrated on ensuring no more Titans appeared beneath noses and suspicions—far too worried to care for a Military Policewoman with a gray pallor and angry cat-like eyes.

Finding the room had been child’s play. The lieutenant responsible for keeping an eye out had dozed off into a deep crevice of sleep, leaving her to successfully sneak past the locked door and venture within. Plucking out the pin that kept the tight bun of her hair in place, she worked against the lock, taking glances here and there toward the sleeping man and blowing long locks of wavy brown away from her face. Sliding in through the door, she locked it behind her letting her eyes take assault over the details of the room. There was no surprise to be found when her eyes found it empty save for the sleeping figure of the Commander of the Survey Corp and… the Garrison woman with the snappy attitude.

Had there been any space for mockery or dark amusement in her chest, she would have sneered at the sight of Rico Brzenska sleeping on the chair beside the Aryan’s bed, head tilted to the side and mouth agape to let loose the slightest trickle of saliva down her narrow chin. Trika Harke was not the sort of woman to be distracted, even for a moment, but in this rare silence and rare time of morning, she could not help but stare at the duo. The very first moment the Major had waltzed in the Commander’s office, she had seen how the Squad Leader appeared so very much like a loyal dog—small, unnecessarily loyal, and wary of others with the understanding her height gave her no advantage at all.

It was so easy to disregard the woman as just another soldier. Yet in the days spent here in this pathetic strip of land in the company of so many foolhardy idiots, this soldier had become a special thorn in Major Harke’s side. The kind one would enjoy most delightfully at the full removal of its prick. The thought of fully getting rid of the prodding and nosy Garrison woman had tempted her mind, and imagining moments where she would be able to wrap her fingers around the silver haired midget’s neck had brought black smiles to slink over her lips.

How many times they had gotten close to being discovered by this sniffing bitch, Trika had kept a careful count, and it had become increasingly difficult to refrain from ordering the complete removal of the Squad Leader. However, as much as Major Harke wanted to very much be personally involved in such extermination, staying her hand had been a clear order from her superiors. So, she settled on entertaining the darkest of intentions to herself, and on occasion the ears of her equally irritated comrades.

 _“Are they really going to notice if we get rid of her?”_ She remembered that conversation with a richer taste of amusement. Heinz’s face had soured the moment Rico had walked around a corner, disappearing with a suspicious glare. It had been a close call.

Far too close. If not for her sharp hearing… they would have been exposed.

Arno Leonhart had only managed to hide the flask of clear liquid they had successfully managed to retrieve from their suppliers. The idiot had almost exposed them then and there, going on about how the poison was almost completely undetectable and how it would get the job done in killing Armin Arlert without a problem. It so happened that Trika had heard the soft pat-pat of footsteps just moments Arno spilled everything, and with a silencing hiss and glare managed to urge him to hide the flask within his coat pocket.

When the trio glanced up, it was to the curious expression on the silver haired woman’s face. _“Good day,”_ Heinz had greeted, smooth voice and chipper tone conflicting with the icy expression on his face.

 _“Good day,”_ she repeated, looking over them with narrowing eyes and a shift in her stance. _“Dark corridors aren’t usually good places for conversation.”_

 _“Indeed,”_ Harke replied, tilting her chin upwards and already wishing she could lift a hand toward the knife hidden on her back. Just one throw and nosy dogs would be discarded.

 _“Can we help you with something?”_ Heinz continued, smiling the smile that had swayed so many others before.

 _“I’m afraid you can’t, Lieutenant… Russo, was it?”_ Rico asked, not bothering to hide her tone behind false pretenses of politeness. Heinz nodded, never dropping his pleasant expression as he took several steps toward the woman.

 _“A beautiful woman who remembers my name, quite the privilege.”_ He said smoothly. Rico’s lip curled at his proximity, her eyes hardening into steel.

 _“Spare me,”_ Rico grunted. Major Harke had been tempted to turn those words into actual supplications rather than sarcastic remarks. _“I have work to do. See to it that you return to your stations, Lieutenants. Major Harke.”_ Those silver eyes turned on the woman in question, narrowing into slits and mimicking the strength of blades. _“I recommend a stronger hand in controlling your subordinates. Take it as advice from a real soldier whom has survived battle.”_

The itch to see red and the musical sound of screams nearly made her reach for her knife, instead Major Harke returned a smile as razor sharp and unforgiving as the Garrison soldier’s gaze. _“Such advice is unnecessary. Good day.”_

Rico said nothing, only nodded and walked off with an expression as unfooled as Harke was for supposed innocence. The bitch knew something, she suspected. Playing safe was not a favorite of hers, but when it had to come down to succeeding in a mission as delicate as this one… certain insects must be allowed to live.

 _“Oi, Harke,”_ Heinz had muttered long after the Squad Leader’s footsteps had faded. When she met his dark gaze it was to a perverse grin and sadistic gleam. “Once this is over, do you think you’d allow me the pleasure of breaking her?”

 _“I’m tempted to hand her over to you,”_ Harke had replied with a smirk _. “But I want to slit her throat myself.”_

_“You can do the slitting.” Heinz replied before nodding to Arno. “I want to make her scream.”_

Of all the people Trika had ever met on the force, Heinz Russo was one of the most disgusting she had ever encountered. Before he had joined the force, she discovered he had been very much involved in human trafficking, specifically the kind where sex and drugs were involved. He was a vile piece of a man, one Trika hoped to kill sometime in the future. There were very few people she would permit within this man’s presence, as his soul was just as black as his intentions, and perhaps it would be a fate too horrific for anyone—even Rico Brzenska—but Harke had learned, long ago, that refusing this predator his prey would evoke consequences she was not interested in entertaining.

Of course, a lot of things changed since the attack and while her team had survived, it was not without repercussions. Arno had lost their poison during the attack and struck so hard in the head, there was no telling when he would wake, if at all. Heinz had been the only one not in the perimeter when the attack took place and had disappeared, leaving Major Harke alone in their current mission. While she harbored no emotional connection to her team whatsoever, she hated being caught with her pants down during a mission, hated for things to go off plan.

It had all been so damn easy… until that… that… _Titan_ showed up and ruined everything.

Major Harke hadn’t remembered feeling so disastrously frightened since her childhood, and being underneath the gaze of such a giant had made her freeze, made her stand and watch as one of her subordinates was picked up, and tossed to the ground without much care. She could still remember the way that woman had shrieked—Harke didn’t remember her name or rank… just the fact she was a brown haired woman who had shown an aptitude for weapon wielding—and then subsequently killed when her back landed on a broken beam of stone and wood, a long piece of glass sliced through her neck and killed her screams as easily as cutting paper.

She had been frightened… she had frozen… and she hated the fact that she was so weak now.

 _“Pay attention.”_ A sharp inhale of breath was yanked down her throat. Gricko… that sick bastard. He was definitely going to be in line for a killing after this was all through and her contract concluded…

Still, the words reminded her of a job needing to be done and with a firm step, Major Harke took out a small vial and syringe, eyes honing directly over Rico’s sleeping figure. _Time for a deeper sleep, Squad Leader._

She had just barely managed to near the woman when her hearing picked up the sound of footsteps approaching from the outside. Stiffening, Trika Harke waited for the footsteps to pass and fade, swearing violently beneath her breath when she heard the doorknob begin to rattle and— _“Keiji, wake up, you moron. You’re supposed to be on watch.”_ —quickly moved toward the only hiding place available. Jumping toward the nearest door, the dark haired woman moved quietly without arousing suspicion. She had just managed to hide herself within the confines of a medical closet as the door opened, revealing the exhausted face of Lieutenant Moblit Berner.

The man didn’t seem to notice the slightly opened door of the closet. He took a few steps within the room and looked over the sleeping couple, sighing slowly with an expression Trika could not make out in the dim, pale light. After a single moment of just appraising, Moblit moved quietly toward the window in the room. The sound of plastic rings sliding on metal alerted the Major of the man’s actions and the room brightened up just a portion enough. First light was brightening, allowing colors to take position over features and appearances. It bounced off the Commander’s sleep disheveled hair, exposing the hint of scruff over his square jaw and over his lip. The same light glared from Rico’s silver strands, making her head look like it was covered in molten silver.

Moblit moved back toward Erwin’s bedside, looking over the IV drips and taking note of the information on the sheet by the end of the bed. Trika waited with bated breath, urging the brown haired man to get going and leave, he was wasting precious time for her to do her job. Instead, the soldier walked around the bed and pressed a hand to Rico’s shoulder.

“Squad Leader…” he murmured, softly shaking her. “Squad Leader Brzenska…”

She let out a soft groan, before suddenly sitting upright. The chair let out a surprised squeak at her abrupt movement and Moblit all but leaped away. Rico’s eyes blinked wide, silver and shockingly vulnerable before hastily searching for Erwin’s figure. She visibly relaxed when she found him, sleeping and silent. “Please forgive me,” Moblit said softly when she looked back up at him.

His back was turned to Trika, showing her nothing of his face and making it difficult to hear his gentle murmurings. “You should return to your room, Squad Leader.”

Rico let out a soft breath before reaching up to pull her glasses from her eyes. “What time is it, Lieutenant?”

“0600 hours, sir.” He replied truthfully. _Shit._ “Will you need help returning to your quarters?” _Yes, she does. Get her out of here,_ Trika thought vehemently. Even though she would have loved to stab the syringe in the woman’s neck and sedate her further, she would take the woman’s absence just as readily for the purpose of this mission.

Rico nodded, pushing herself off the chair and wincing when her joints protested the awkward sleeping position. “Never mind me, Lieutenant. I can get there on my own…”

Moblit nodded and helped straighten her when she wobbled on her feet, “Get some rest, sir. You look exhausted.” Rico let out a soft grunt that sounded like a laugh.

“You are a peachy one,” She grumbled before rubbing the back of her sleeve over her chin. “Good night, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quietly, Rico walked around the bed towards the door, stopping just for a moment to look over her shoulder to gaze quietly at Commander Erwin’s sleeping figure. At this angle, Major Harke could not make out the woman’s expression, but she imagined it to be somewhat forlorn and lovesick. Pathetic.

“…Sir?” Moblit asked, and this Major Harke noted with some curiosity that he looked strained.

“Nothing, Lieutenant… good night.” With those parting words, Rico opened the door and closed it behind her. Major Harke nearly sighed with relief before letting her eyes trail back toward the soldier. _Now you can leave. Go._

Moblit didn’t leave. Instead he moved toward the door and sat down on it with a long and heavy sigh. Silence passed for several moments and with how his knees supported his elbows and his head draped to his chin, Trika wondered if the man had dozed off as well. Instead, he spoke, “Did I wake you?”

She scowled, but froze when the Commander replied easily, eyes still closed. “I’ve been awake for some time.”

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._ Has she been found out? Dammit.

“I see…” Moblit replied. Trika immediately jumped into a list of ways to escape. She still had the syringe, and if the Commander knew of her presence, she had a small window of opportunity to lunge and stab its contents into Moblit’s bloodstream. There would be not much opportunity for Erwin to do something, but she doubted it would go well since it would give her target enough time to shout for help. Quickly her eyes searched the closet for anything to use as a weapon, clenching her teeth when she found only an empty clothes hanger, a duster, and a few towels.

“How is she, Moblit?” Erwin’s voice came again. Major Harke turned back to look out the slit of her hiding place, confused as to why she had not been exposed yet.

“She’s alright,” Moblit replied, lifting a hand to run through his hair and back of his neck. “Sleeping off the medication. She ripped her stitches out earlier… nearly scared the hell out of the nurses when she had all but jumped out of the bed and rambling about the Female Type.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” The Commander chuckled a soft breathy laugh. “She’s always been a live wire…”

Moblit nodded before glancing up to look into the blond man’s face. Erwin’s deep blue eyes stared out into the window ahead, contemplating. “I see the surgery was a success…?”

Erwin looked away from the growing light of dawn to look at his legs, “They managed to retrieve the sliver… it was a piece of wood. However, there is no telling when I can walk again. They’ve been rather tight lipped about any word of my recovery.”

“So… what, sir, you can’t walk?” Moblit asked, mouth straining over the words like chewing on something bitter or something hard to swallow.

“Nothing yet…” He replied before reaching over toward the pitcher and cup on the table next to him. Moblit moved and served the man a glass of water before sitting down. Major Harke nearly screamed in frustration, wanting nothing more than to eliminate the man and getting over with her objective. However, she did feel a slight feeling a relief, deciding the man hadn’t woken until after she had hid. Her cover was not blown… yet. Still, this information was proving interesting. She had been aware the Commander had been injured… however, the level of injury had been withheld.

“For the present moment, Moblit,” Erwin proceeded. “Don’t tell her about this… not yet. Not after what we just discovered.”

Moblit’s head lowered, expression looking haunted, “About that, sir…” he trailed off before sighing again. “I haven’t told her yet.”

Erwin’s eyes crinkled, his fists tightening over the sheets. “Why?”

“I know we agreed on it, sir,” Moblit explained. “However, I’m not sure if it’s the right time. Major Hanji just recently dealt with… with your matching to Rico Brzenska. I don’t think she would handle it well.”

 _Handle it well? Handle what?_ The previous irritation was abruptly silenced by the curiosity now sparked. Closer—as close as the Major dared without exposing herself—she pressed against the slit to listen, catlike eyes narrowing in focus. She didn’t even bother blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “What do you propose we do then, Moblit?” Erwin asked after a slow moment of silence.

Moblit rubbed a few fingers over his eyes, sighing out with effort, “Just give me time. Time to figure out how to break this to her slowly… the last thing we need for her is to react too roughly and lose the baby.”

Major Harke’s eyes widened, lips parting in surprise. _The baby?_ Erwin’s lips tightened and he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, the military policewoman recoiled slightly. She would hate for him to notice how this door was not supposed to be open… especially now after such interesting information was appearing before her like gold.

“Have you finished your engagement documents?” The Commander asked, eyes rising to stare out into the morning light. Trika bit down on her lip, realizing that she could catch the blue in his eyes, the gold in his hair easier under the growing light. She was running out of time. Moblit nodded, dropping his hand to hand between his knees.

“I don’t want to turn them in until after we’ve explained everything to Hanji…” Moblit trailed off and when he looked up, Major Harke could see the deep sunken look of his eyes, the circles beneath his lids hanging like deep shadows. “Hopefully she’ll be able to see how desperate the situation is… how her safety must become paramount in our endeavors.”

“Do you think she will?” The lieutenant let out a soft snort of forced amusement.

“I’m more worried about what she’ll do after finding out she’s pregnant with your child, Commander. Especially after we were all certain she would not be able to conceive.”

There it was.

A slow grin lifted the edges of Major Harke’s lips, a razor sharp smirk hidden within shadows laughed without mercy at this beautiful sign of good fortune. _So… the Major is pregnant is she? Ohoho, Commander Erwin… you’ve been quite the rebellious bastard after all._

The sedative in her pocket felt wonderfully perfect in her hands, she knew now would be the best time to attack. With a slow inhale, she waited until she saw Moblit begin to speak once more, saw Erwin’s eyes widen with surprise and jump directly to hers the very instant before she kicked the door open and lunged for the exhausted lieutenant.

Moblit let out a strangled cry the second Harke had leaped over the bed and slammed his head against the wall and pressed the tip of the syringe against his neck. The resounding thud was sickening to her ears and it was almost like rich music when she turned a manic smile toward the Commander. Her lips parted to expose her teeth when she saw him jump toward the desk and find a weapon.

“Ah, ah, ah, Commander,” She clicked her tongue, pressing the syringe deeper against Moblit’s throat. The man stiffened beneath her, eyes wide and breathing shallow as she dug her knee against his crotch. Erwin’s eyes widened and he ceased moving, jaw setting tightly as he met Moblit’s wide eyed gaze. “I wouldn’t want to risk your subordinates life anymore than you would, is that right?”

“Major Harke…” the Aryan spoke slowly through gritted teeth. Moblit let out a pained hiss, Hark shoving the needle within his neck when Erwin’s hands had inched in another direction. Slowly, he lifted his hands in a sign of surrender. Trika nearly laughed then and there, she almost did.

“You are so weak,” She chuckled darkly. “Or perhaps you are truly as black hearted as I’ve heard. You don’t really value the life of your men, you only see them as pieces to your game. You’re more worried that if I do inject this into his bloodstream, you’d be losing a valuable asset to your game.”

To his credit, Erwin said nothing, fixing her a violent glare that made her tingle with amusement. Again, she grinned up at him before shoving the rest of the needle against Moblit’s skin and pressed the liquid within deep within the man’s bloodstream. “No!” Erwin exclaimed.

Harke shoved off from the man moments before he let out a shuddering gasp and fell off the chair, face first into the ground with a thud. “I have to say, I must show some gratitude to Lieutenant Berner for getting rid of the guard outside. Now we can actually talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Erwin hissed, turning on her with a snarl. Trika chuckled, jerking her chin to the side to throw her loose hair over her shoulder. Reaching behind her she retrieved the knife from its holster, twirling the blade so that the morning light would bounce from its reflective surface.

“Let’s not have a bad conversation, Commander,” the woman smiled again, “You can relax. I only sedated him. You see, you’re not the only one who sees him as a valuable asset in planning. The lieutenant will live.” Carefully she sauntered her way toward him, taking several steps closer before whipping her blade to press against the man’s throat before he could attempt to lunge at her. Erwin let out a soft grunt of black irritation, glancing down at the edge kissing his throat before allowing her to direct his back to his cot.

Easily, she slid over his lap, straddling his hips with her legs and shoving an elbow against his sternum, letting the bone rub against the weak spot without mercy. Blinking smug yellow eyes, she gave him a syrupy smile. “I am very interested in this conversation, Commander.”

Erwin remained silent as she slid the blade of her knife up and down his jaw carefully. “Here I was, hidden within your very closet and you give me absolutely the best kind of information to use against you. I have to say, your generosity has certainly turned me on, very much so.”

He winced when she rocked her hips against his, purposefully rubbing herself on him like a cat in heat. Her grin widened, sharpened, lethalized into an expression of sadistic dominance. “Do you like that? Of course you do, you enjoy having women turn to sap between your fingers, don’t you? Poor Rico Brzenska, she has no clue at all you’ve been fucking another woman. And boy, the drama you’ve cultivated. Not only do you use another, you’ve left your seed smeared all over her womb and now have a little baby Erwin brewing within her, hm?”

Again, Erwin said nothing, clenching his teeth sharply as she continued to rub herself on him, disgust filtering through his eyes as he silently withstood the Major’s actions. Suddenly, Harke’s eyes widened and her grin became all the more horrid, “Ohoho… you’re responding? You really are a sick one.” She let out a little moan as she rubbed herself harder against him, eliciting a friction that made her pick up her pace.

“Stop it,” He hissed, lifting his hands to push her hips away, freezing when she tightened the pressure of the blade against his skin.

“I haven’t had a good release in a while, Commander,” Harke sighed with sick amusement. “You have no idea how delightful it is to have such an esteemed and powerful figure beneath me, helpless and under my thumb. It’s enough to make anyone want to… to…” She let out a soft moan, gasping as she shifted her hips against his and rub ever harder. Erwin’s eyes shut tight, teeth gritting against her movements. Suddenly he lifted his hips and ground harder, making her eyes snap wide open and her hold on her knife weaken. A few bucks and just like that the Major was letting out a keen sigh of pleasure, body twitching beneath his fingertips. The knife in her hand fell and Erwin seized the opportunity to throw her off him as quick as he could.

It was a scramble for an upper hand, his hand found the knife, her eyes had narrowed into a violent rage that made them try to grab the blade first. Erwin swung, she ducked and she was on him again, jabbing an elbow against his throat and grabbing the blade quickly, her other hand had gone down between his legs and gave a harsh squeeze.

He groaned loudly, eyes watering. Gasping, Harke used his own weakness to take back the upper hand, “Tsk, tsk, Commander…” She said through shuddered breaths, “And we were having such a nice conversation.”

“Get off of me, swine whore,” He spat and she shoved the knife further against him, drawing a thin stream of blood.

“All in due time, sir,” She said. “Now, I have a few questions, and I expect an answer… or I will expose you to everyone and everything… I will personally make sure your beloved Garrison Bitch sees you for the two-timing shit you are, and your reputation destroyed by the government.”

A sudden knock on the door alerted them, made her shove her way off the man and scramble to her feet. “Commander? Is everything alright?” The voice on the other side of the door inquired. “Sir, the door is locked.”

In the space of slim time between them, Erwin was caught within the threat of her gaze and the flush of her cheeks. Harke quickly shoved her blade back behind her, her hands lifting to arrange her hair back into a knot all the while smirking down smugly at him.

For a moment, he stared at her, openly hateful and disgusted, yet his mouth never opened to call out an alarm and have her apprehended. He was caught beneath her thumb, a position that made her tongue lick at her lips and straighten her clothes with shaky fingers. He would not be able to outrun her, would not able to ensure her silence unless he complied enough… he was entirely at her mercy.

“Sir?”

_You breathe a word to anyone, and I will expose you._

A twitch in his jaw alerted her of her success, of the victory she had tasted and felt between her legs and witnessed against his eyes. “Everything is alright,” Erwin replied after clearing his throat. “Go back to your station.”

Major Harke’s lips broadened again. Oh, what a sweet victory this was.

* * *

The skies were no longer blue. Probably some kind of skewed mercy being given, he supposed. Blue skies and bright sunlight didn’t seem to fit in the solemn castle, didn’t fit the picture of depression and sadness that chewed corners and laughed from behind the shadows.

Connie Springer had always enjoyed a good joke, always preferred lighthearted things to the heavy facts of life. Sasha understood, and so their friendship became set in the wind and the calluses he could run a thumb over when he felt anxious. Once, long ago, he had wondered what it would be like if she had ever liked him enough to kiss him. He wondered if he would ever have the courage to kiss her. He wished he did, but instead of feeling disappointment when Sasha had demonstrated an attraction to Jean, he had only felt slightly surprised. _Jean? Horseface? Really??_

Maybe she liked horses… but he didn’t think she liked them enough to be attracted to their faces. Let alone Jean. However, throughout their years on the run as a squad, he found Jean no longer seemed to fit the stereotype of a horse-faced moron. He grew into the clothes of a warrior, grew into the holsters of a gun and the swipe of blades. In a sense, Connie could feel himself doing the same, however, not enough to catch Sasha’s attention. But that was okay. He was fine. Definitely more than fine.

He was supposed to be fine.

But then _she_ appeared in his life and mucked everything up. Damn it all.

Breathing roughly through his nostrils, Connie all but slapped his mind away from her. He didn’t need to be thinking about Li right now… cleaning corpses and…

Oh…

Oh no…

Suddenly, he didn’t want to be in the room. He found himself wishing ardently to go back in time and kick his idiot self for allowing to be volunteered in cleaning up the remains of the Dining Hall. Wished he could just say no to the soldier who had passed him a pair of working gloves and goggles.

They were supposed to have cleared away all the bodies. That was _their_ job. Not his.

And yet, here he was, standing by a large piece of torn ceiling, staring at the undeniable corpse of Riza Dorinski. _“Li, how come you never told me your match was a total heart throb?”_

A sharp pain in the back of his head made him cry out and when Connie blinked, he was looking at the big gaping hole above them. Glancing down he saw his feet, tangled on a large wooden beam and a large shard of glass just inches from his thigh. He tripped?

No. He had scrambled away, unprepared for the sight of the crushed corpse and the vacant expression on Riza’s face.

“Oi, Springer!” He heard and when he glanced up it was to the exhausted expression of a fellow soldier. “You wanna get off your ass and get back to work?”

Nodding, Connie pushed himself off his back and away from the large glass shard, hating the way his hands shook and how he could feel a sweat working on the back of his neck despite the frigid breezes that puffed through the gaping hole. _This is ridiculous… I should be used to this by now._ Nevertheless, he bit down on his cheek and went back to shoving the large stony slab away from the corpse.

“Hey, you alright?” He heard and when he glanced up, it was to Jean’s dust covered face. Words escaped him then, made his heart clench uncomfortably. Rubbing his gloved palms over his slacks, Connie merely jerked his chin toward Riza and saw Jean’s eyes send an inquiry before following the line of sight.

“ _Shit._ ” Jean swore beneath his breath, shoulders slumping. When he looked back up it was to Connie’s shadowed expression. “Does she…?”

“She knows…” Connie replied and he remembered how Li had clutched to Riza’s head, crying silent tears and heaving dust choked breaths. He recalled how he had to reach up and yank the shard of glass on her shoulder to get her to let go and carry her to safety, how she shrieked and cried against him for the loss of a sister she had ignored in the past. He remembered how he had taken her away, listened to her swear lethal growls of vengeance, saw how her green eyes had become wide and mad, a shade of green so ragged, he worried he would cut himself if she turned it on him.

He remembered watching how a medical soldier approached her, cleaned the dust from her face, her hair, and spoke to her despite her silence and snarls.

He had left her there, to be tended to. He abandoned her… because he couldn’t handle the rage and agony coursing through her blood like poison, couldn’t handle the acidic burn of her murderous intent. Connie had fled, hoping that she would be able to be alright. He hadn’t seen her since that day, only glanced at her from yards away during meal times and in-between orders. He hoped desperately that he would be able to get his act together, to go and do what Jean had forgotten to do. Connie wondered if she would be mad at him like Sasha had been, wondered if she would be less forgiving. Instead… it was as if their matching up had completely been forgotten, wiped away with the crashes of debris and shattered glass.

Should he go to her? They weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. If not for their result, Connie was certain they would’ve probably remained as the unlikely acquaintances they had been prior to this whole thing. All that had been exchanged between them were anecdotes and vicious kisses, dark dreams and gasping touches. Physically, he had become all but enraptured by her… in every other aspect…

Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. She matched him. He hated how much she matched him. How much she didn’t hesitate to slap wits together, how she rode ahead of him and looked back with an expression of smug expectation. He would be lying if he didn’t admit she was something of a knock out. But did he love her? No. Did he like her? Probably wouldn’t go so far as to use that word either. But he did find a strange synchronization with her he did enjoy—if only in small doses—and it wasn’t so bad… hadn’t been so bad, kissing each other and using the other to express their indignity and rage at being seen as no more than breeding pawns.

Now… now things felt different. Suddenly, Li was staying meters away, and all Connie could do was pretend nothing had happened. Perhaps they would return to the road of a relationship. Perhaps not. Even if the government forced them, the lack luster that hung to her eyes would not be replaced anytime soon.

“Come on, Connie.” Jean sighed after a moment of staring, of gasping through their mouths when they caught the stench of decaying blood and skin. “Let’s get her out of here and toward the pyres.”

“They’re still on?” Connie asked vacantly.

“They will be now…” Jean sighed and gave him such a pained expression Connie didn’t bother returning it. He simply kept his eyes determinedly flat and chest as cold as the air filtering around them.

Retrieving Riza’s body had taken nearly eight men. Four to move the boulder over her crushed legs, and the other four to remove the large glass impaling her beneath her ribs. Connie and Jean worked in silence along with the men, not feeling up to exchanging words, even when Connie had lifted two fingers to close Riza’s dead eyes. When lunchtime was called, he had tried and tried to remind himself of the joy of eating. But it fell short… just like so many things did.

“You can’t blame yourself.”

Blinking flat amber eyes up, Connie met Jean’s expression with a grunt of irritation. “Who the fuck said I am?”

“No one…” Jean sighed and when he glanced back up he was serious and missing his own usual spark of humor. It was the Special Ops squad mission all over again. The vacant eyes of a man too tired to question morality and just doing as ordered.

Connie glanced back down, blinking again and trying to register the plate of food sitting innocently in front of him. When he looked back up, he only just realized they were sitting by the main hall, joined by other silent soldiers attempting to stomach down tasteless morsels of nothing.

“When are we leaving?” Connie asked. It didn’t need asking. He knew when they were leaving, knew the look of black apathy within Captain Levi’s gaze the moment he had approached them with the mission and the objective, just the day before.

_“Pack your bags,” He had said. “We leave Wednesday.”_

_“So soon?” Sasha had gasped, eyebrows furrowing when she realized she would not be joining, and when the Captain had turned and looked at her, it was with a softened expression. He had said nothing before looking back at Jean and Connie._

_“Be prepared for at least a month. We will not be returning sooner.”_

_“What about Mikasa?” Jean had sputtered. Captain Levi said nothing, his eyes narrowing before he turned and left the way he came. Silent, brooding, and shoulders as tense as the days had been._

“Wednesday,” Jean humored him anyway. “Two days of cleaning shit and then we’re hitting horses and riding out to find Annie…”

“Huh…” Connie hummed, lifting his fork and scratching the tips of the utensil over grains of rice and peas. “God, I hate Mondays…” He didn’t know why he said it, but it felt good, in the way small rays of warmth did before they disappeared behind clouds—fleeting, slight, and unsatisfying.

“Yeah…” Jean breathed and another silence reared its ugly head between them. Connie entertained himself with squishing peas beneath his fork, watching how their insides burst beneath the pressure and the morbid observation brought the image of Riza’s body to the front of his mind. He stopped squishing peas immediately and fought off a wave of nausea. “So when are you going to talk to her?”

Connie scowled, running a hand over his scalp to peer over at Jean. He wasn’t looking at him, rather his eyes were following the movement of the only person who could be ‘ _her’_. She was grabbing a tray of food silently from a soldier, nodding to a command before turning and walking a few feet away to stand by a window. She had dumped the tray on the stone sill without as much as a glance, keeping her gaze out and away from the people around. Another memory toyed his mind—one of their first meetings and Connie tore his gaze away.

“I don’t know,” Connie shrugged and settled on twiddling his fork between his fidgeting fingers.

“You need to go talk to her.”

Eyes narrowing, Connie bit down again on his cheek, restraining himself from snapping a reply. As expected, Jean didn’t disappoint and kept pressing the issue. “You just found her sister’s dead body, go talk to her.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds like splendid conversation,” Connie drawled in response, tongue heavy with sarcasm. “Definitely going to save that one for a date.”

Jean turned back to face him, that same dead-in-the-eyes expression of no nonsense that Connie found himself hating with fierce zeal. “She needs to know Riza’s body was found and cremated.”

“She can find out from someone else,” the buzz cut huffed, feeling his stomach already break out into a fit of worms and snakes. Before Connie could retaliate, Jean was leaning over and ripping the fork away from his fingers, the tips scratching at his palm and leaving red marks behind. Connie let out a hiss and the beginning of a shout before Jean cut him off.

“Stop being such a fucking asshole, man up, and go talk to her.” Connie stiffened, throat feeling so empty after Jean sat back against the wall and wolfed down a piece of dried beef. Without another word, the shorter man stood, shoving his food tray on the ground before tugging his hands into his pockets, fished out the gloves they had issued him and threw them on Jean’s chest. The spiky haired man didn’t even look up and Connie was walking away.

In his mind, he tried to come up of all the things he could say, all the ways to start talking to her again and wondering if they could go back to spitting back words at each other… if she would let him kiss her again, and pretend nothing meant something and maybe provide some form of comfort for each other. He doubted, but he couldn’t help but hope just a bit.

He moved until he was a good three yards away when, seemingly out of nowhere, Eren appeared at her side. Scowling, Connie tried to remember if the titan shifter had been there already, if he had overlooked him as another soldier or if he had been out of sight because of the other men milling and standing about. A few steps closer and Connie suddenly didn’t want to approach anymore.

The two of them were leaning on the stone rail, Connie recognized Eren’s brown hair and profile easily, saw how the Titan shifter had turned to look down at Li and how his expression held something heavy in his green gaze. Li glanced back up and she must have said something back because Eren was shrugging and glancing around.

He had no idea why he did, but Connie took a step back, hiding behind the figure of another soldier feet away—avoiding being seen and why the hell would he want to suddenly hide?—before he dared to step back into view. When he did, Li’s tray was alone on the stone and when he took a few steps closer to search them out, he saw their backs as they retreated out of the dining hall.

Saw how their shoulders were almost touching.

Saw how their hands gripped together almost unnoticeably.

Saw…

And didn’t understand.

Saw…

And felt as if someone had shoved a great piece of glass right through his chest, in the space beneath his ribs.

* * *

Long and slim, sharp and vibrant beneath the undisturbed attention from the sun. It blinked and flashed the light in blinding bounces, making dark emerald eyes flutter spots away, made the certain hold of a hand against a hilt falter for a split moment. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Eren let out a soft exhale that bordered on the wryly amused, when he turned around it was to a similar green gaze looking up at him through dark lashes, arms crossed and a shoulder pressed against the threshold of a door. Li dared not venture any deeper within his room, keeping a mindful distance that liked to stray on the awkward. Before he could respond his mouth filled with the memory of hers and he turned away instead, forcefully placing the sword back on the desk that he could call his own.

This would not be the first time they agreed to stay away from each other. The first time, he had plainly decided to avoid her the moment he stepped out of her room that Sunday morning. He knew she would have no qualms with his decision, that she would accept his vacancy and silence with the sort of attitude one held for a soggy afternoon. Eren hobbled his way back to the infirmary, mind bouncing off Armin’s words and receiving constant tingles in places where Li had touched and he found himself casting his green eyes to the gray skies, wondering if he would ever be touched like that again.

Instead he returned to his assigned cot, did as he was told, and allowed the medical staff to examine his ‘perfectly fine’ leg. He didn’t answer questions when they took his clothes for a wash, when they noticed telltale stains and sent him cautious glances. He sat back when one of the head medical staff came to him and sat down in the very stool Armin had occupied hours prior, before asking point-blank if he was sexually active. Eren shrugged a response, neither a yes or a no, and realized he enjoyed being able to have this one bit of information to himself, that he really liked the disapproving glances and how the memory of Li’s movements over his hips felt less desperate and more defiant.

That lunch hour had been diluted in tests and questionnaires Eren didn’t particularly pay attention to. All that mattered was that one moment his leg was aching as much as his chest, the next he could walk without a problem. _“Looks like your healing is kicking in, Eren._ ” The words didn’t sound as congratulatory as Hanji would’ve made it sound and the reminder of the woman made him disregard the pursed lip expression on the medical officer’s face.

 _“I’d like to go see her, if that’s alright.”_ He said this as he tossed his tray of half eaten food aside, not feeling any form of positive emotion when he could stand on his own two feet. Still, his hand reached for the crutch, but more for a reason to fidget with something. Eren had no clue what had happened to Hanji, and frankly, it was beginning to worry him that he had received no news.

 _“The Major is resting, Eren,”_ His officer replied, jotting information on a board and paper, not bothering to glance much at him. _“Perhaps another time.”_

_“No. I want to see her now.”_

The man finally met the Titan shifter’s gaze with thinly veiled exasperation. The crutch in his hand began to appear rather nice as a makeshift club. _“Another time. You need to rest.”_

Eren felt his blood threaten to explode from his head, _“I’ve done my resting! Let me go see her, or at least tell me how she’s doing!”_ Of course, his protests fell on deaf ears and the young man settled on punching the nearest desk with a curled and shaking fist. A nurse walked in, picked up the mess, and walked away without so much as a glance. He found himself hating them.

Without care for orders or recommendations for sleep, Eren sauntered over to the door—hands clenching his crutch with a white-knuckled grip—and escaped before anyone could try to stop him. His initial destination was to find Hanji’s room, to locate and find out for himself of the woman’s welfare and possibly to talk to her about what happened after Annie had knocked him unconscious. He had managed to avoid being apprehended by soldiers, but the ache in his leg was acting up again and before he managed to fully disappear from the infirmary’s hallways he found himself using his crutch again.

 To his relief, no one bothered to ask him anything, and Eren allowed the rise of permitted time to grant him some short-lived freedom. So, for a while he walked, becoming increasingly frustrated when he found no sign of Hanji’s room, or the face of anyone familiar. Giving up, he had made his way through the hallways to head toward the only place he could get some time alone—vaguely wondered how Mikasa was, what Armin was doing—and to find maybe some peace of mind.

In the past, Eren had once been greeted by his fellow men. Now no one wanted to meet his gaze, let alone greet him. The loneliness became worse in his chest, unsettled and bitter, so when he found himself turning down a hallway and bumping into Li he had almost brushed passed her.

She had almost brushed past him, until both of their footsteps stopped—facing opposite ways as they both realized the other’s presence—and heart beats began to race. Slowly he had turned around, found her doing the same with a guarded expression. Saw the green in her eyes reflect his own and before both of them could attempt to walk away, she was marching up to him and grabbing his face in the middle of the hallway and pulled him down into a kiss that made his brain scatter.

The term brain-dead stupid had never really made much sense to Eren until he felt her shove him against the wall and he could feel the knots of tension brewing in her shoulders. When she pulled away, it was to equally shocked expressions and tingling tongues.

 _“I…”_ She had choked out, stepping away from him as though her actions had scalded her. This was so wrong. It was so wrong. Eren realized then that it was not the kiss that was wrong, but the feeling that took him when she looked so torn. _“Shit… I…”_

Li turned away and began to walk off, her feet hitting the ground abruptly—and Eren grabbed her, pulled her back and found her mouth with his and lead her to a vacant room. There she had rambled about how they shouldn’t be doing this, how they should both leave, yet her hands gripped his shirt, yanked it off and pushed him against her hips. There they found oblivion once more.

It was there that Eren realized that they had entered a spiral of detached pleasure that intoxicated, relieved, and soothed as much as it hurt, stung, and bit. It was quick and it left them both panting into each other’s mouths, their eyes meeting through the shock of this error and the attempts at making sense of their strange situation. He peeled himself away, guilt playing rough with his heart when he remembered Connie, and tried to forget how she had let out a loud groan at his touches.

 _“Eren,”_ Li had called after their clothes had readjusted against their forms, after her hair fell against her shoulders as it should. He turned to her and saw how she worried her lip between her teeth, _“Come by tonight.”_

_It was supposed to be a one-time thing. How did it get so messy?_

_“What about Connie?”_ _Fuck._ She recoiled and shook her head. When she said nothing, he found himself feeling the same—knowing full well how there was no other option for comfort… how there was still a need for it. So, that night he found his way in front of her door, saw her open the door and felt her attack his mouth much like their first night together. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t soft and gentle like that night had been after she had cried and begged him to stay. It was carnal, rough, and it left them both gasping on her bed, horridly satiated.

“ _You should tell him.”_ He had said after they pulled apart, even all that space would not be enough to ignore how she had stiffened.

 _“He doesn’t need to know…”_ She had said and he could feel her words reverberate through the string of guilt and sorrow that tied them. _“He doesn’t belong to me anyway. No one does. Not anymore.”_ Instead of saying anything back, his fingers found her thighs and he heard her breath hitch in her throat when he slid them up… and up… and found the reason why their nothing was really something. When she moved, he moved with her. _Just forget… just forget… for tonight. It won’t last anyway._

So here they were. Two strangers who shared skin and burdens like two pieces of the same soul and exchanged cries and moans that should have ripped others apart, but made him feel something of a hero, made her feel something close to human. And now… now it was ending and he didn’t know how he felt about that. Didn’t know especially now after he had taken her hand, lead her down the hallway and liked to believe they had walked away from the main hall unseen. Even after she had shoved him brutally hard against her cot and shifted her hips over his under the pale light of the noon sun and how her hair looked different and interesting under this different glow. He counted each freckle in rhythm to her gasps and fast-paced hums of desire, felt the bandages of her wounds stand out over the smoothness of her skin.

And his mind had drifted of the image of Annie riding him instead, and he bucked and she thrust her hips so hard they both cried out names that didn’t belong to each other.

Now she was standing on the threshold of his new room, detached and far away and he wondered what kind of friends they would have been. If things had been different if she had been among their group of trainees and had united in anger and desires for revenge. _Been a long time, hasn’t it?_ Li’s question bounced back in his mind and he sighed.

“Before I had a room?” He said instead, hating the way the sword had fit in his palm in all the wrong ways. The sword in his hand fit wrong. He wished he could say that much about her.

“That and since you held a weapon,” Li supplied and he heard her shuffling against the wood. “I can tell. Your grip is all wrong.”

“Is that all you came to say?” He asked and didn’t understand why he couldn’t quite look up, but knew exactly why. There was a difference, apparently, and it sat quite cozily between anger and sorrow.

“No,” She said and her tone was so business-like he could almost forget the way her voice could hit pleasured pitches and sighs of mindless self abandon. Almost. God he hated himself. Hated the feeling of betrayal marking underneath his tongue and making him feel like he had been cheating on a pair of blue eyes and an aquiline nose. “I came here to end it.”

“What?” Why would he bother try to ask for clarification? Idiot. “I was under the impression there was nothing. Nothing to end.”

He heard her intake of breath and wondered why his skin felt so sore and so numb all at once. When he turned around it was to find her glaring at the ground.

“I’m not…” She began and cleared her throat. Eren reminded himself of the weight of the letter within his jacket pocket—his new jacket pocket. Standing in uniform felt so weird… felt off in ways he hoped would never sit—and forced his gaze to flatten like hers did whenever they spoke about their… whatever it was. “I won’t be coming back here anymore.” _Coming back to you anymore._

“Good,” He said and shrugged it off, as if he were batting away stalks of hay instead of pins and needles. “You have Connie.”

When she didn’t respond he could feel uncertainty make him curious, “Right?”

Li said nothing, instead she seemed to have come to a certain conclusion before she was stepping through the threshold and closing the door behind her. Still her eyes remained in other places as she tentatively stepped toward him, her lips firmly shut even after she stood right in front of him. Eren felt himself sit against the edge of the desk, if only to lower his height to match hers.

“We are nothing.” She said, and he didn’t like that she wouldn’t look at him.

“Nothing.” Eren agreed, but his eyes widened when her hand reached and caught the hem of his jacket. His hand had shot out and gripped her wrist before she did anything else, afraid that if she tugged the letter would fall, would be exposed to her eyes and she would read over the cover before making a decision to judge him instead.

“I don’t mean anything to you,” it wasn’t a question, but he could feel the hesitance beneath her skin. He let go of her wrist immediately.

“I don’t mean anything to you,” He parroted, knowing full well that it would be the only way she knew it was how he saw their reality. When she blinked back at him, her green eyes were flat, but when he looked ever closer, he saw the vortex of emotion clinging to the shade of her irises, the abyss of her pupils. It reminded him far too much of Annie.

Far too much.

He blinked and her auburn hair turned corn yellow, her eyes a crystalline blue, her nose dipped downward and he was moving toward her before he could help himself. _I should stop._ She should be pushing him away, not letting him kiss her, and not letting him hoist her up to wrap legs around his waist, not gasping against his mouth when their hips rubbed in just the right way. Li had become an addiction he could not afford to deal with, and yet, she gave him so willingly what he always wanted—what he needed from the woman who gripped his heart in crystal and the soft utterance of his name through Titanic lips.

“Eren…” Li breathed and he swore he heard Annie instead.

“Li…” he groaned instead, just barely stopping himself from speaking the other woman’s name—remembering how her gaze had darkened when he had uttered Annie’s name after their high had hit and she bit down on his skin wrathfully.

“Eren… Eren…” She spoke between presses of moist lips and haggard gasping from his throat and strangled voice. “Eren… stop.”

He almost didn’t hear it, but when he did, his shirt was off and his hands were glued to the skin of her ribs. Instead of seeing the familiar and empty lust he had associated with Li’s eyes, what he saw made him nearly drop her. He had ripped through her shell without asking, kissed his way without holding back and therefore exposed the torrent of wild emotion he had been careful in avoiding. Slowly, her legs fell from his waist, the bulge in his pants protesting when she pushed away from him and he let her go.

“We can’t…” She said, and her lips were kiss stung and her words were pricked and gaping.

“Is it because of Connie?” Why did he ask? Why did he keep asking? He shouldn’t be asking. He didn’t care. He didn’t care if her heart belonged elsewhere, that his settled in another’s grip.

“It’s because of you,” She said instead and her voice was so steady he forced himself to turn around and grab the rag he had used to clean his swords. “Because of what you’re planning and I can’t support it.”

“You have no idea what I’m planning.” He replied acidly.

“You’re planning on going after her.” Li explained and his fingers curled around the blades and the steel bit through the rag and into his fingers. The steam that burned through the wounds was almost enough to make him want to rip through his own bones and drown in more of it. “So am I… and when I do, it is not to save her. I’m going to kill her, Eren. I won’t stop until I rip her apart.”

Something inside him was beginning to stretch, to pull and pull and making his throat taste like iron. “I won’t let you.”

“Which is why we can’t. Not any more.”

His hand was bleeding, the steel was clattering against the desk of his room and when he turned to meet her eyes she was not giving him an inch of mercy. The space between them crackled—crackled with the definition of conflict and turmoil, made him strangely wish he had never looked into her eyes and see himself within them—and the ravine spread.

“Goodbye, Eren.” Li said and her eyes softened, landed on his lips and he _wanted_ to reach out and find a reason to stay. When he found none her eyes hardened again. With a swift turn of her heels, she walked away, opened the door and disappeared.

He shouldn’t have cared.

He shouldn’t have.

“Goodbye, Li.”

Tuesday morning came with his venture toward the main hall for breakfast, and when he saw her approach Connie with downcast eyes, he turned and walked back to the infirmary. He hadn’t been that hungry anyway.

* * *

If there had been any hope for a reaction, it had been after the first five minutes of silence. After ten, there was some cause for concern. After fifteen minutes concern had twisted into silent fragments of dread. Fragments… because with each clap of thunder that struck, bits and pieces of it were always the first to scatter and leave fingers clenching tight over wrinkles of worn fabric. The sound of gentle slaps in muted erratic rhythms grew to accompany the uneven symphony. With every passing moment they grew stronger and less musical, fully attacking the thin glass and wood that composed the windows around the infirmary.

For twenty minutes, Hanji remained unmoving, practically frozen since Moblit had dropped the very news that once upon a time had been considered an impossibility. Only… it wasn’t. It clearly wasn’t. Still and unmoving remained the red haired woman for a time far too long for Moblit’s comfort, yet the Deputy Lieutenant dared not say anything before she was prepared. Such information was not the sort one could handle easily—especially after all that’s happened.

_“We’ve been discovered…” Erwin said softly, azure orbs focused on his legs with half-hidden loathing. Moblit nodded, rubbing his neck and his head with a pained expression._

_“How much does she know?” Moblit asked—when he had woken after Major Harke attacked him—it was to Erwin nursing a neck wound and muttering darkly to himself. The major was nowhere to be seen._

_“Enough to destroy what we’ve built so far.” Erwin said and his voice was so eerily calm it began to frighten Moblit. In a flash, those dark blue eyes landed on the soldier. “There’s no time to waste anymore. Hanji must know of the predicament, do not spare any details.”_

_Moblit nodded, pushed himself to his feet and headed straight for the door, pausing to look back at the Commander. “What of the Major?”_

_Erwin’s fists clenched and his lips curled into a cruel smile, “Leave her to me.”_

A flash of bright light made the nerves bundling up in Moblit’s stomach jump, and when his eyes refocused back over Hanji’s form, her hand had shifted away from the abandoned papers closer to where her belly lay beneath the covers. Moblit felt his breath catch in his throat, unable to see the expression over his superior’s face as the long strands of auburn had fallen to curtain her face.

“Who else knows?” Moblit nearly missed the question. Her voice was small, almost inaudible over the falling rain and the rumbling growls of thunder.

The Lieutenant nearly sputtered in his response, feeling his stomach make war with his throat as he tried to gather an answer from his nerve-wracked mind. “I… oh… Captain Levi, sir. As well as Lieutenant Alfons and some of the soldiers that had assisted during your surgery.”

His eyes followed the curl of her fingers, noted with patience as her hands clenched to the white sheets and caught the slightest hint of a tremor over her joints. “Who else?” She asked and Moblit’s blood ran still.

“…Commander Erwin.” He answered, knowing that at this point hiding anything would bring worse results. Hanji’s shoulders slumped forward, her hair falling further as her head bowed.

“Did you…Did you tell him, Moblit?” Something in him stopped his mouth from working the word of affirmation, he was unsure as to what it was—perhaps it was the way her voice seemed to have hit a pitch he had not heard before, or the way she had removed one of her hands from the sheets to grip her glasses. He watched in silence as she pressed the heel of her palm against an eye, fingers shaking in their grip of the slim metal. He could only exhale his response.

“How long…” Her voice broke. Moblit nearly winced yet he found himself under her gaze as soon as she cleared her throat. “How long am I along?”

Biting his lips, Moblit shifted in his seat, feeling the nerves begin to bite and chew at his throat. “Lieutenant Alfons… he believes you’re around six weeks along…”

Hanji suddenly chuckled, her chin turning and her expression became incredulous, “That’s not long enough to tell…” At this Moblit frowned. Opening his mouth, he hesitated, but shook his head before proceeding.

“Hanji, they found swelling in your womb and after the blood tests… they confirmed it.” He spoke slowly yet he could feel a force of anxiety stir in his chest as he saw her head slowly shake, her eyes meeting his in flickers as she placed her glasses back on her nose and reached back toward the pen she had dropped.

“No… no.” She said, voice taking on a cheery tone so bright it made Moblit feel more than helpless. “Impossible, Moblit. You and I both know quite clearly that I cannot possibly be pregnant. I did the tests myself. It’s impossible.”

Moblit could feel the helplessness rise, make his fingers tighten against his knees, “Hanji…”

“That’s Major, Deputy, don’t make me correct you again.” Her voice was harsh and bitten, lips tightening into a thin line as she reached to pick up the pen again. Moblit bit down on his cheek, uncertain on what to say. What could he say? How could he attempt to make matters less complicated now that she refused to take his words seriously? Steeling himself, Moblit frowned.

“Major,” he said firmly, leaving no room for weakness from his part. “I’m afraid you have no choice but to accept the current circumstance.”

“There is no circumstance,” She replied, turning a black glare on him—if it had not been for the weight and anxiety boiling in his blood, Moblit was certain he would have probably caved to her attention—Moblit scowled back. Standing from the chair he looked down at her with an unforgiving gaze.

“You are pregnant with Erwin’s child. That is the truth. I don’t care if you don’t believe me, because there are others who are already privy to this information—enemies who will not hesitate to use this as an advantage against us. This is not the time to deny truths when we have so little on our side. You are in danger, Hanji. The Commander ordered me specifically to ensure your safety, and by Maria’s Soul, I will follow those orders until I die. I have prepared the engagement documents and I have already signed my name into many of the papers now, you will need to sign there as well…” He trailed off, tugging the packet from within his jacket and placed it on her lap.

“So, please,” Her eyes, now wide, looked back up to his and her lips parted in a silent gasp upon seeing the tears welling up within Moblit’s strained gaze. “I know I will not be able to amount to much… but please accept me as your husband. If only just for a short time. Please, sir, let me protect you.”

“Moblit…” She breathed, looking dazed and before she could begin to form a protest, the Lieutenant had stepped close, gripped her jaw between his hands and pulled her mouth against his in a silencing and desperate kiss.

When she responded, she was gripping at his neck and nodding against his lips. Silently, Hanji wrote her name on the documents, and silently she handed them back to him. When he walked out, he didn’t see the decisive gleam in her eyes, for he had been too focused on trying to convince himself that that kiss didn’t mean anything except the agreement of a promise made.

* * *

The rain was relentless and harsh. It struck like punches and kicks over their heads and made the gloom that filled the castle ever stronger. For hours, Hanji had sat back… her eyes staring at the ceiling and listened to the pitter patter of rain behind her head, watched as the daylight faded into deeper shades of gray and sunk into the enveloping shadows.

_Pregnant…_

_You’re pregnant…_

And now they’re telling her she is. How could they expect her to swallow that? After all the tears and the heartaches, after dealing with the agony of giving away Erwin to another because she was unable to do what was necessary? Was this fate’s way of dangling hope in her eyes after she had lost everything?

_This life is too fucking cruel._

Oh, how she had wanted so much to have a child… and now, she was supposedly bearing the child she had wanted within her womb, that she was six weeks in and that she would be a mother. A mother… A mother… to hers and Erwin’s baby. This was what she had wanted, what she had wished for ardently the nights spent in his embrace. She wanted to be tied to him irrevocably, wanted their strands of fate so intertwined in red and delight that nothing would be able to untangle them. Instead, their strands had fallen apart, except this one… this simple little one that held now, now after it was too late.

This news should have been a happy one. It should have brought hope back in a flood, but instead it only left a knot stress to wrap and tighten, wrap and tighten, within her chest.

Glancing down, she lifted her hands to slide the material of her gown over her legs and up her abdomen. Gently, she let the tips of her fingers slide over the long wound, feeling the ridges of each stitching on the cut and felt the heat of healing pulse throbs against her skin. Beneath that she let her fingers trail over the flat expanse of her womb, wondering if there really was something cradled inside her, seeking to live.

_What would we name our child, Erwin?_

With a twitch, Hanji gripped the thin film of her gown and tugged it back over her flesh. Her feet touched down on cold stone, shooting unpleasant shivers up her legs and spine. Hanji didn’t care for returning to a cocoon of warmth. She needed to move. She needed to speak to him. With decisive movements, she removed the IV within the crook of her elbow, stopped the machines and grabbed a cotton ball and bandage from a nearby bin of medical equipment. She walked as she wrapped her elbow, kept her arm bent to staunch the blood flow and moved silently.

It was close to dusk, and while she knew there would be people on the lookout, Hanji moved as though she belonged. To her surprised, not many people paid her much attention and she vaguely wondered if they had all become so stuck in their own train of thoughts that they would allow anyone to walk around.

Quietly, she meandered, and when she saw a medical officer turn a corner, Hanji jumped behind a large tapestry hung on the wall. He was followed by a few other soldiers, and he spoke quickly as they moved. “…We need more medications from storage. Anders, I need you to locate the boxes of the supplies within the storage unit, we should have more pain killers there. Rolf, did you get bandages for the Commander?”

“Not yet, sir,” The cadet at his side replied, a blonde haired boy with a large nose. “I went to his room but he wasn’t there…”

“Because he was transferred after the surgery,” The medical officer replied, flicking away a strand of brown hair from ticking his brow. Hanji remained very still as they walked past her, oblivious. “He’s situated in the hallway farthest in the left wing. Bring antiseptic as well, we don’t want that cut on his neck to get infected, now do we?”

“No, sir…” The boy replied and Hanji waited until they left. Sneaking out from the long and thick fabric, she headed through the halls in the direction the medic had described. Her footsteps echoed in her ears and she stayed as quiet as she could without attracting attention. Her focus remained on moving, on firmly deciding what needed to happen.

When she turned down the hallway, she saw Keiji sitting next to the door, his narrow eyes skimming through the cover of a newspaper without interest. Hanji approached decisively and when the soldier glanced up, he nearly scrambled to his feet to salute her.

“Major…” He began, looking baffled as she drew near. His eyes took in the sight of her hospice gown and bare feet, frowning. “Major, should you be walking around?”

“Let me in, Keiji…” Hanji ordered, in no way in the mood for idle chatter. “I must speak with the Commander.”

Keiji’s face turned ashen, his fist falling from his chest uncertainly, “I’m… I’m not sure if that’s wise… sir.”

“That was a direct order, Lieutenant.” Her feet pushed her closer to the door, eyes narrowing behind the glasses on her nose. “Open the door.” Keiji hesitated, but after a moment it became clear that Hanji would not be leaving any time soon. With a slow sigh, he tugged a key from his pocket and unlocked the door of the Commander’s room.

“Ten minutes, Major.” Keiji said before he opened the door. “I can only afford to give you that much.”

Hanji nodded, stepping through the dark threshold and within the room. When the door closed, the light from the hallway had faded into a thin slip of orange beneath the door. There was still enough dusk light and enough flashes of lightning to keep the room from being pitch black. Stepping deeper, her eyes trailed through the cot within the room, her eyes landing on Erwin’s upright body.

It was too dark to tell if he was looking at her, but she had a feeling his eyes were on her. It was the sort of thing one knew when there was so much intimacy shared. Rain crashed against the window in harsh whispers, and within the shadows she saw him move and reach for an object on his desk. The sound of metal squeaking was all that alerted her to the sudden approach of lamp light. It was soft and feeble, but strong enough to allow her eyes to find his outline, to see the way his hair fell around his face and the thin scruff growing on his chin. Light bounced off his broad shoulders and his jaw, illuminating the thin strands on his chin like small rays of white. It bounced off his eyes, firm over his lap and a dark blue that looked too somber to fight his expression.

“You shouldn’t be here…” He said softly. Hanji let her eyes slide close, registering the way his voice curled around her like warm smoke.

“I know…” She murmured in reply and she let her feet guide her closer to his bed, let her knees fall over the thin sheets and the soft cushion of the mattress. He didn’t move, but he watched her and she opened her eyes to meet his. Her gaze was wretched, and the smile that watered past the line of her lips looked like a ruined copy of her usual beams of excitement. Erwin’s eyes trailed over her face, over the hollow over her throat and over the curves hidden by the hospice gown.

“I’m going to be a mother, Erwin,” She said after a short moment of staring into each other’s eyes. “Or so they tell me.”

“Do you not believe it?” He asked, and from the corner of her periphery, saw how his fingers twitched over the fabric of the covers. Hanji shook her head, but stopped when she saw his gaze fall to his lap.

“How could I?” Erwin’s lips tightened, fingers clenching. Hanji looked away, eyes landing over her own hands and found them trembling softly over her lap. “How could it possibly be true…? After what we suffered…?”

“It’s cruel.” He said and she nodded, letting strands of auburn fall over her shoulders to tickle the top of her breasts. “But it’s true. We… we’re going to be parents.”

Brown eyes squeezed shut and her heart begged her to lean against him, to feel his touch and to let the tears that needed falling to fall. To fall and drown the spaces of shadows and the ravine spreading between them. Instead her shoulders shook and his hand found hers, “I’m so sorry, my love.”

Hanji sobbed, and when he gathered her in his arms, she cried. She cried because no matter how comforting his hold was, how his body felt against hers, their ravine would not be so easily crossed. She was astounded at the sight of such a deep abyss now crumbling between them. She was astounded by the thin little thread of fate still keeping them stubbornly united, and how despite the winds and floods, it held.

It held… when it should be breaking.


	16. Thunder and Hooves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll always be chasing you… Glory.”  
> \-- Sidney Poitier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: You already know, dudebro.   
> This chapter’s inspired tracks are: ‘Skyline’ by Martin O’Donnel and Michael Salvatori, ‘Your Hand In Mine’ and, ‘Remember Me as a Time of’ by Explosions in The Sky, ‘Finding Beauty’ by Craig Armstrong and ‘Last of the Palaiologi’ by Jesper Kyd and Lorne Balfe.

“That was much too close…”

“We could have lost her for real, this time.”

“…How much time until she wakes?”

“You want to know so goddamn bad, then stick around and wait.”

“ _How long?_ ”

“AGH! Alright, alright, alright, alright!! Ow! Damn it, Heinz. It would depend on her body. This drug we got will definitely boost the healing and shit, and judging by how small she is… probably a couple of days.”

“That’s not too bad.”

“That’s the best case scenario. Worst case scenario, it takes her two weeks to wake up.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? Boost the dose.”

“ _What?!_ AGH—FUCK— _what the hell?!”_

“Unless you want your ear sliced off, Claude, you’ll keep your fucking voice down. Am I understood?”

“Yes, yes, yes—AGH— _yes!_ Alright! …Look, we can’t boost the dosage, alright? I don’t care who you are and what you’ve done in the Underground. If we give her too much, she could very well die!”

“I’m no idiot, Claude. You see, I know how the chemistry of your drugs work. If you give her a boost, be it a few hundred milligrams more, the damage would only be in her brain. So long as she can walk, eat, shit, and sleep—I’m sure it would be good enough for the Monarchy. Besides, it’ll work out more in the long run.”

“I won’t do it, Heinz. You can threaten me all you want—DON’T. Only I know the appropriate amount to give her; you kill me, you’ll have nothing but a dead corpse and wasted time on your hands. Is that what you want to fucking tell the people above? Our orders were specifically to make sure she didn’t die and remain lucid enough to make the public believe she would be capable of being in line for the throne. You get that, Heinz? _Lucid._ One pinch too much and we would have a fucking vegetable in our hands—and everything would go to waste…”

“Alright, shut up. I get it, dammit. Fine… two days. You keep an eye on her for two days—if she doesn’t wake up in two days, then you will boost the damn dosage until she does wake up. Understood?”

“…”

“Do I have to get rid of a few fingers to get a response, Claude?”

“…Understood.”

“Good. I’m going to search for Harke. Once I find her, I’ll tell her of our lovely little change in plans. You get things ready. The second she wakes up, you tell us and we’ll take her to the Capital. Easy peasy. And relax, you inbred pissbag. As expected, they’re releasing another expedition to hunt down the Female Type, and just like all their other expeditions… _it will fail._ ”

“Wait… How do you know that?”

“Let’s just say, we’ve got insurance that they won’t. So cheer up. We’re winning this little chess match.”

“…You’re a sick son of a bitch.”

“…Have a good night, Claudey-claude.”

* * *

It had taken him a few hours to get everything prepared. Stealing provisions was much too easy to do now that everyone was occupied focusing on their duties, and while he felt somewhat guilty for seizing such an opportunity, Eren did not allow remorse in.

Deftly, his fingers tied the knots over his belongings, wrapping the rope that would take them out his window and by the bushes next to the building quickly around the ends. As he counted what food he managed to nab and the equipment he planned to take, the young titan shifter could not rid himself of the last words he had shared with Li, and finally Jean.

“ _Not hungry, Eren?”_ Jean’s question came with the bitter sensation rolling in his stomach, stopping him short from leaving the main hall unseen just moments after seeing Li lead Connie down the main hall and out of sight.

“Yeah,” Eren had replied, feeling his muscles tense beneath tan skin as he turned to give the tall ashen-haired man a weary expression. Jean pushed off from the wall he had been leaning against, dropping his crossed arms to his sides and fixing him a carefully flattened look. “…My stomach is not what it used to be.”

“No surprise there,” the soldier replied and for a short moment neither of them said anything. Unsteady worry billowed under Eren’s lungs the more Jean watched him, making him want to turn and walk off. It had been a long while since they had conversed, and despite this, talking didn’t seem right when there was so much heaviness dragging the gray atmosphere between them. Finally, after an almost insufferable eternity spent in awkward silence, Jean sighed and let his eyes fall to Eren’s feet. “I don’t think any of us will go back to eating normally.”

Eren tried desperately to swallow back the urge to snarl something back, knowing full well the accusation that hesitated to curl out of Jean’s tongue and somber expression.

“Listen man,” Jean began, sighing fully as he reached a hand to scratch at the back of his scalp. “I’m not going to bring it up, but… I do hope you and Armin will be alright.”

_There it was_. Eren’s fists clenched tight. It was clear Jean blamed him, even if it was unintentionally. “I did what I could, Jean. I had no idea of what she did.”

“Yeah, well now you know,” Jean replied and his tone was so biting, Eren could feel the beginning of a rage build in his chest. Before Eren could so much as spit out a defense or turn and leave, the tall man deflated. “I… look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” _Yes, you did._ “But, I’m serious. We all know how much you cared about Annie. We all cared about her in one way or another… especially at the end. Things are different now, Eren. I know it doesn’t need saying, but I do hope that you remember what’s more important.”

“For your sake, Jean, I hope you’re not implying what I think you are.” The threat hung unspoken like a black shadow beneath Eren’s words, yet despite saying so, something in him knew Jean was already thinking so far ahead that he must be guessing what Eren was planning.

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed and his expression flattened, “Have you even gone to see how Historia is doing?” The question struck him like a rampaging horse, trampling with such surprise and actual shock that the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. The anger was swept under the dust of the attack, stunning the chocolate-haired man mute. His lack of answer seemed enough for Jean’s eyes to harden in a harsh expression.

“It didn’t even occur to you, did it? What Annie had done…? She didn’t just attack us, Eren. She ruined _everything._ With each passing moment, Historia could be lost forever. Your best friend is too afraid to go visit her for fear that he will suffer the sight of her dying before his eyes. Meanwhile, the rest of us pick up the corpses of our _friends_ , the pyres are still lit and all you can think about doing is fucking a comrade’s match behind his back.”

Ice burned down Eren’s throat, drowning him in a heavier surprise and horror. _How did he…?_

“It wasn’t hard to guess,” Jean spat, crossing his arms at Eren’s sudden pallor. “Connie wasn’t the only one who saw you two walking out of the main hall together, and Li’s room is just a few doors down from Sasha’s. A monkey could connect the dots easy enough.”

_Shit_. Looking away, Eren felt whatever words burning in his throat fill his mouth like glue. “Does… he doesn’t…?”

“No, he doesn’t, but by all means, he damn well should,” Jean grunted. Eren winced. Damn. _Damn…_ Everything had become so messy, so screwed up. He hadn’t meant for it to get as screwed up as it did, but the underlying tone of Jean’s sharp accusation burned enough sense into him that he could have at least _tried_ to do more than yield to his idiocy and let Li burn her way beneath his skin.

“It didn’t mean anything,” Eren said after hearing Jean sigh once more. “We aren’t together.” A short mirthless laugh burst past Jean’s teeth like razors. Shaking his head, the tall soldier wiped a hand down his face.

“You still don’t get it, man.” There was no mercy in Jean’s voice, and it crowded the floor with the sounds of his footsteps. Eren said nothing and waited for Jean to grab him by the throat, to punch him, to lay down what he knew he deserved. Instead, Jean shoved past him with an almost brutal collision of shoulders, pausing only to speak by his ear, “Figure out which side you’re on, Eren. Because if I see you on the opposite side of the field out there, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

_So…it comes down to this, then._

With a slow exhale of exhausted air, Eren paused in his work. It was a small amount of provisions, but it would be enough for him until he could get out of the Corp’s base outskirts and reach the area where he and Annie had fought. Transforming into a Titan then would not be so difficult. Remaining in that form and absorbing sunlight as energy would keep him well enough for a few days. Besides that, training for wilderness survival was something he had learned in his days as a trainee… he would be fine.

Yet, despite the knowledge of where his journey would take him, Eren knew full well what this meant. The threshold had been crossed, time was against him, and the answers he needed were more important than the life he no longer had here.

Humanity didn’t need him anymore.

_I don’t have anyone. Not anymore._ Li’s words bounced in his mind and he recalled the way she had gripped his skin. It was short-lived, and while comforting, the connection he had toward the red-headed girl had always been doomed to end quickly. Discarding that guilt was simple, all he had to do was picture blue eyes and corn-yellow hair.

Noon came slowly, and by then Eren was more than ready. Throwing his things out the window, he lowered the rope of his burdens and let it drop into the foliage just several yards beneath. Shutting the window closed, the titan shifter turned to his final objective. Pressing the envelope containing his letter within his jacket, Eren walked out of the room and down the hall.

His chest felt tight and his thigh ached just slightly, yet clarity was a welcome companion within his mind and determination fueled the blood thrumming around his bones. This time, it was easier to disregard the wary glances of the men and women around him, it was much simpler to forget the way they watched him with distrust and thinly veiled rage.

_Titan. Threat. Evil._

It didn’t matter to him anymore.

So, he walked until he found his way in front of Mikasa’s door, and he allowed himself a short period of reminiscence.

_“Ne, Eren. I just wanted to say… Thank you… for everything.” Mikasa had such a soft smile on her face that day, her support and love undeniable. It had given him strength. “Because we’re family. You, and me, and Armin…”_

Slowly, he brought up a hand, letting his fingers curl in preparation to knock against the wood. Yet, something stopped him. Held him firmly away.

_It’s best not to._

He dropped his hand, pulled out the envelope from his jacket and stared at the name he had written out in careful strokes. _Thank you… for everything._ Silently, he bent down and slid the letter beneath the door. Once the deed had been done, he turned and walked away.

The action had left him so strangely drained, it almost slowed his pace. A final thought brought on a sudden pause to his journey, made him quickly reconsider a few things and with some assurance Eren decided a couple much needed detours were in order. Finding the room where Historia was placed took some time asking directions from a few people—people who hardly paid him visual attention—and when he found himself in front of the door, he nearly bumped into a short, balding man hurrying out of the room.

“Sorry,” Eren had uttered, blinking in surprise when the man looked up at him and turned an almost deathly pale yellow color. “Er—are you alright, sir?”

“Fine, fine…” the man said quickly, rather nervously as he wiped his palms on his coat. Spotting the medical badge on the man’s lapels, Eren frowned.

“May I go in to see her? Historia Reiss. I’m a friend.” The man opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Anxiously, he looked around, as if trying to spot the company of someone undesirable. Eren felt his confusion double when, instead of offering any permission or acknowledgment of any kind, the man just ducked his head and hurried off. Eren watched after him with an uneasy feeling in his gut, “What the hell…?”

Carefully, he turned back to look at the door. Nothing was wrong… right? Hesitant, Eren found the door unlocked and pushed through, shutting the door quickly behind him in case someone spotted him and ordered him to leave. The room was lit only by the damp gray light of day, bleaching out colors and the bright shade of Historia’s hair. The young woman was draped over a fairly sized cot, covered in white sheets and the cables of IV drips. To his eyes, she looked like she was sleeping peacefully, yet when he stepped closer to her side, unabashed details jumped into his attention.

Her usual bright complexion was now pale, almost pasty and sickly. Her hair fell against the pillows like ruined strands of weakened straw, her breaths fell from chapped and swollen lips. The sight made his heart collapse to his feet, made him understand why Armin had refused to see her. It was enough to shake him to his knees. Carefully, he fell against a nearby chair, reaching out to find her hand beneath the blankets. She was so wretchedly cold, Eren nearly drew his hand away.

“God, Historia…” Eren breathed, feeling his eyes grow heavy with sorrow. “I am so sorry…”

If she heard him, Eren didn’t know and he remembered his time lost within the realms of unconsciousness. He wondered if he had looked this terrible during his weeks cast in a comatose sleep, and he realized just how terrible everything appeared to his friends. They had already suffered the agony of one friend thrown in an uncountable slumber… now, Historia was clinging to a thread and the repetition of circumstances must be enough to make anyone want to run away and escape. He felt almost guilty for admitting that this was exactly what he was doing.

Against his will, tears burned behind his eyes, making the weight in his stomach slither fingers around his throat and squeezing. Dropping his head, Eren brushed a hand over his face and wiped the excess sadness from his cheeks. “I’m leaving, Historia,” he said finally.

“I’m leaving to find answers… and to find somewhere else to survive. I’m not needed here anymore. You’ll probably understand. You understood better than anyone else. We were always two sides of the same coin, remember? Everyone always thought that I was Humanity’s Last Hope, but that was never true. It had always been you. Your destiny was always to free them…even though things changed. I’ve become the final problem.” Expelling breaths slowly, Eren let his eyes trail over the young woman’s expression with the closest thing to affection he could attempt.

“You’ll wake up. You’re strong,” he squeezed her hand, feeling nothing in return. “You found your strength when we all needed it. Armin needs you, needs you more than he needs me now. I…I need you to take care of him for me, Historia—sorry, Krista. Ymir always said that was the name that she preferred, even if you sort of hated it. Just, take care of him. Wake up for him. He loves you. He needs you. So wake up, and wake up soon.” _Thank you, for everything._

Silence followed save the distant rumbling of thunder. Autumn was angry this year…

With a final squeeze, Eren pushed away from his chair and dragged the sheets back over Historia’s hand. Carefully, he pushed a strand of blonde hair from her forehead, thumbing the skin softly before he retracted and turned away. She probably didn’t hear him, but it didn’t matter. He said what he had needed to say.

There was just one more person that he had to see… and then he would be gone.

* * *

_Something… was wrong. Off. Different._

Levi didn’t know what it was, but there was…something… in the way she that sat in silence made him feel uneasy. And yet…

Everything was as it should be.

Or, it was close enough, he supposed.

In the past few nights they had shared, his nightmares had only persisted, yet, luckily, never worsened. Mikasa had held tight to his chest as he squeezed his lips hard on her jaw and neck, tasting the salt of a haunting phantasmagoria that fell from his eyes against her skin. In desperation to feel her, he had pushed himself to his elbows and ran his fingers through every inch of her flesh. Slowly, he would repeat shallow mantras of her name, all to expel the echoes of lurid memories and bloodsoaked imageries. Quietly she repeated his name, gentle and love filled. It was as he wanted it to be. With her, safe, in his arms. Yet, when she returned his kisses, there was a familiar taste under her tongue, caking her throat and leaving a mote of worry to toss around his stomach. Since her declaration to stay, Levi had felt relieved, yet something in the back of his mind told him very clearly that there was no possible reason to believe her. It was a ludicrous thought, one that made him feel as sick at the logic and how it was sound despite her soft nods of affirmation.

_She is Mikasa._ Headstrong, defiant, stubborn, and powerful. Yet, had not their previous missions proven the depths of her loyalty? He ordered her to spill human blood, and she did so without the doubts that had plagued the rest of the squad. He had ordered her to leave Eren behind, and despite her irritation and her torn afflictions, she had _followed_ and did as told.

Levi knew that the trust between them had suffered in the past. It had very nearly been broken during the events of the Trials and the following weeks, _months,_ after—yet, their reunion and the reconciliation thereafter had unified and solidified their trust stronger than super steel. To doubt her word now…

It would spit on the hard work done between them.

And still… Her submission had surprised him. When preparations had been completed, her passivity slowly began to make the jaws of suspicion widen, and widen… before slowly sinking jagged teeth behind his neck. Ever so surely, that mote grew and grew…snowballing into a sizeable stone that pressed uncomfortably against his chest.

_Perhaps it’s simply pregnancy hormones._ Levi was no expert in pregnancies or how they functioned, knowing only the basic understanding of when a woman was with child. How their emotions liked to toss and turn, cravings rose, and temperaments flared over the insignificant. Only, Mikasa had not been more emotional than she normally was…

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Really thinking about it, Levi could find certain clues within the turns of his memories. That evening after their fight, finding her crying had stunned him into a deep remorse, nearly making him stumble through his apologies and attempting to make that new experience something coherent in his mind. She was human, she could cry—she was allowed. He had just… never really figured it would happen for something like a spat. So, that made sense, at least, in terms of confirming a change in her biology.

So it points to reason that she would demonstrate less level-headed understanding concerning something as major as a separation that would span more than a few days. Instead, Mikasa had been nothing but understanding—annoyed and disliking of the situation, certainly—and that was what made alarms chime incessantly in the back of his mind.

The documents had been signed, the paperwork turned in and all the supplies had been counted and prepared. Those menial tasks would’ve been less important in his mind if not for his fiancée’s sudden desire to take care of them.

“I’m practically your immediate subordinate anyway,” Mikasa had said with a light shrug, taking the papers from his hands before he stood from his desk. “As your Lieutenant, this wouldn’t be surprising.”

“But you’re not,” he replied. Dark eyes narrowed as she turned without much protest, and he tried to appear as aloof as she did, tried to keep the suspicion from pouring from his expression—much less his own words. “Not yet, anyway.”

Mikasa had paused at the door after his words, she never turned to face him and that alone made the teeth on his neck chew and gnaw uncomfortably. “Let me just do this for you, alright?”

He had no response, she didn’t give him time to give one. After the door had closed, he glanced down, realizing the only thing left that mattered was to inform the rest of his squad. Soon after, he was walking down the hallways, hoping that the short commute would at least put at ease the agitation brewing like a storm in his stomach. Finding the squad had been easy… and almost painful.

He had found Armin in the training rooms—vacant, save the Lance Corporal—slugging away at a large sandbag with a harsh stare in his blue eyes. No words were spoken for those first five minutes, and Levi had vaguely wondered if Armin had even noticed he entered the room, or if he was too far gone in his own enraged focus to bother caring.

Without a warning, Armin ceased his attack over the swinging punching bag, “My injuries are fine, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“I’m not concerned over the physical, Armin.” Levi replied, narrow eyes taking in the stillness over the boy. Several years ago, he remembered comforting this young man over the guilt of taking another human life… such a vast difference from the sculpted figure of this man displaying such moral inhibitions.

“I can fight, Captain.”

“I can see that.” At that, Armin turned to face the dark-haired Captain. The look within his gaze was nothing short of murderous clarity, the kind that was still and controlled. Levi felt something stir in his fists, a desire to wipe that unusual gleam off his face and knock some sense into the kid. However, as a soldier and leader, Levi could only marvel at the lack of hesitance found in Armin’s expression. No matter the circumstance, the short man knew that that level of extreme focus would be necessary for this expedition. Even if it did mean for some sanity to become momentarily lost.

“Is there more you came to do, sir? Or are you only here to observe the obvious?” Any other time Levi would have flown at the chance to beat some sense into the blond man, but this whole situation was dreary enough as it was.

“Pack your shit, Arlert,” Levi replied instead. “We’re leaving Wednesday.” Armin gave him a gruff nod and turned back to his punching bag and resumed his training. He didn’t even offer a salute. Levi left without another word.

Such callousness was to be expected… even soft hearts have expiration dates. Levi knew this intimately, so he said nothing because there was nothing to be done. Finding the rest of his team had been just as easy as locating Armin. Both Connie and Jean were sitting along with Sasha in her quarters, speaking about one thing or another before quieting the instant Levi stepped through the parted door.

Sasha had taken the news with an honest disheartened expression. Her eyes had fallen to her bandaged leg with a wounded expression and Levi knew he would not be needing to explain why she would not be coming. Jean and Connie answered as expected… until…

“What about Mikasa?” Jean had voiced, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

The simple sound of her name made the stone in Levi’s stomach toss and tumble with newfound momentum. _What about Mikasa, indeed…_

_…She wouldn’t though._

Ha. Wouldn’t she? It wouldn’t be terribly shocking. Knowing her—and judging by her abrupt demure decision to follow his orders—it would not be outlandish to assume she was planning something else. Planning to follow.

Levi said nothing, kept the war out of sight before leaving Sasha’s room. _She would not. She gave me her word._

_This would not be the first time she deviated from orders. It would be illogical to trust her to follow orders, now of all times._

_Illogical, maybe, but it would be the right choice._

_Would it?_

Dammit. No. This would not be like those times in the past. It was his lack of confidence in his teammates that had led people to perish abruptly. It would be a mistake he would not commit again.

Monday passed… Tuesday came, and by lunch time, Levi only had his worries to join him for his meal. Mikasa had been ordered to conclude preparations for the expedition, helping pass information and counting equipment at her insistence ( _“I want to make sure you won’t be left unprepared.”_ ) To his surprise, while he poured over technicalities and the written liabilities on paper, he was approached by an unlikely person.

“Captain Levi.” The fork traveling toward his mouth paused, tasteless chicken held in the air as his eyes glanced away from documents to meet the green-eyed stare of a Senior Cadet—judging by the tags on her jacket. He recognized her; recalled seeing her a few times relaying orders to her team. She placed a fist against her chest, saluting yet never looking away. “Senior Cadet Hanna Li Dorinski.”

Something, and Levi didn’t know what, rang in his mind at the sound of her name. A strange alarm that tickled a memory too blurred and too unconstructed to be understood. For the space of a few seconds, Levi tried to fish the source of the memory, tried to put sense into it, yet his mind was too focused on the events concerning his fiancée and the repercussions that would come with this expedition, so he brushed it aside quickly.

“What do you want?” he grunted, dropping his fork without much appreciation, fixing her with a pointed stare and the raise of a brow.

“I noticed that you are short an officer for the expedition, sir.” She began, glancing down at the papers by his plate momentarily. There was no need for elaborate explanations, Levi knew. Such a comment could only lead to the only possible train of conversation, and judging by the dark depths tearing through this woman’s eyes… it was not difficult to narrow down a motive.

“Let me guess, you want to kill the Female Type as well.” There was no need for a vocal answer, her eyes did all the talking for her. Levi fought to roll his eyes, turning his utensil to stab into a piece of his lunch. “Get in line, Cadet. Not everyone can get what they want, and the conditions of this expedition are none of your business.”

“I’ve already spoken with Commander Erwin,” she said, reaching into her jacket pocket. Levi felt a twitch begin in his lower eyelid. He was much too bothered with other things and if he had to deal with another piece of paper he would probably rampage. She dropped her search for the official form hiding in her pocket the instant he lifted a hand to stop her.

“Fine, fine. As it happens, I am missing another two squad members for this expedition. I’ll allow you in, but only because the numbers are lacking. You cause me issues and I’ll kick your ass out of the mission, understood?”

“Sir,” Cadet Dorinski saluted, turned, paused… and turned back, green eyes twinkling with a pensive expression. “Sir, I know of someone who can take the next spot.”

Air blew in a short sigh through the Captain’s lips, “Go take care of it then, Dorinski. I’m busy.” To his relief, she didn’t bother with fumbling with a final salute. Instead her footsteps echoed away, and Levi returned to the turmoil waging battle within his mind and his heart.

Tuesday evening offered no respite to the soldier, and it was clear no respite was being enjoyed by any returning from repairs. The stench of burning flesh and the sounds of the despairing crackled with the last of the pyres. The number of all the casualties had finally been summed up on paper, and while it was not their worst in terms of amount… the way the castle held its way in silence felt as though a bigger war had been lost.

This loss was heavy, and it would only get heavier now that things had become so immensely complicated. Three days was not enough time to permit healing on so fresh a wound, and it was apparent. Nevertheless, there was a rage broiling beneath it all... a rage that could become honed into a powerful weapon.

Levi wouldn’t doubt the way Erwin’s mind would be ticking now—he would be figuring out how to use this event as a means to gather as much support to his cause. If they played their cards right… things could change for their benefit. In the grand scheme of things, Annie’s abrupt attack could become a catalyst for a great uprising. Yet, narrowing it down to the hearts of those directly affected, such an effect would be longstanding.

This should be the thoughts to plague him. This should be what concerns him most.

However, Levi was not Erwin. He would never be able to think so objectively, not when so many things kept happening to the people he loved. Mikasa’s pregnancy, while unexpected, filled him to the brim with a wave of emotions he didn’t think he was capable of. The fact he would be fathering a child, and so soon, wreaked an anxiety that threatened to topple him over. Yet, that very fact also made him wonder how he would be able to care for such a life, made him wonder if he would be capable of giving love where all he had was a youth full of bloodshed and mental manipulations.

Was this the right choice? By all means, now was the worst time to be concerned over a child. Although Mikasa would agree with him about their circumstances, she would never agree to an abortion. She cared too much too soon. Perhaps it had been a dick move to use her emotions against her upon the discovery, yet he knew that if the situation were not contained and controlled while they had it... He could be dealing with a consequence worse than a temporary separation.

She knew this. She _knew_ this. She would not disobey him. It would make no sense if she did.

_She cares too much._

_She will follow orders._

_Nevertheless..._

_Plan ahead._

* * *

“How is it?”

The sound of metal medical equipment clinked softly against a tray, leaving a soft  _ting_  to ring inside Mikasa's ear. In the short silence, she tugged on the material of her button up shirt, letting her fingers glide over the buttons and pushing them quickly through individual slits.

“You’re healing quite nicely, Cadet Ackerman.” The medical officer could have made an attempt to not sound so chipper. Her voice was overly bright, and she seemed to have caught her mistake just a moment after speaking. What followed was the clearing of a throat and a soft scuffle on the ground that allowed Mikasa to infer the woman had shifted uncomfortably. This time, when the nurse spoke, her voice had sobered. Almost too much now. “Just three days and your wound looks like it will be patched up rather efficiently. My guess is there won’t even be a noticeable scar—only if you manage to keep it from being reopened again, that is.”

Mikasa nodded, feeling the strands of her dark hair tickle her collarbones. It’d gotten longer, and while she had considered heading to the cutter’s to get it shortened, ambition fell short. “Thank you,” she said after a tense silence. It was supposed to be a dismissal… but it didn’t seem like this woman got the hint.

“You’re matched to Captain Levi, right?” the woman asked. Mikasa stifled a sigh, turning only to appraise her. The medical room only had one window, a long one on the far end of the room facing the east. Much of the drapes had already been pulled to give them some privacy during the physical check up, and what dim light from the ashen skies poured in didn’t improve the dreary atmosphere. Mikasa’s assigned medical officer was a slight woman with dirty blonde hair pulled into a low bun, her blue eyes looked distantly toward the floor. With a flick of attention, Mikasa looked over the tag on the woman’s chest. _Dietrich. Celia Dietrich._

“Of course you are,” the officer continued. “Your match has been the talk of the military… That was a stupid question.”

“It’s fine,” Mikasa replied, finishing the last buttons of her uniform before sliding the straps of her gear over her shoulders. Still, while she busied herself with adjusting the straps and the leather over her chest, the woman remained.

“You love each other… right?” Where was she going with this?

Bobbing her chin down once, Mikasa reached down for her jacket. Chancing a glance, she witnessed the woman’s nervousness as she lifted a lightly shaking hand to brush at an innocent strand of loose hair. The fair haired woman proceeded with utmost hesitance. “It’s just… I wanted to know if…you two fell in love before the match…”

“Why?”

Celia shrugged, “I just…” her words fell and the color of of her eyes seemed to darken with a sorrowful expression. “I’ve been matched to someone… and he loves someone else. He can hardly stand to be with me. I’m trying, really… I want to do my job, I want to be able to feel unaffected by his rejection. He tried to run away with her, but they got caught and now he’s been demoted and punished. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Then Mikasa remembered. Celia Dietrich had been paired up with Dieter, whom had been in love with that girl—Margo—she could remember having walked in on the pair arguing in the hallway several weeks ago, remember theirs was a story with a now foreseeable happy ending. Mikasa blinked, letting her eyes trail up toward the ceiling. Celia didn’t have to say any more, and the raven-haired woman was somewhat relieved by her abrupt silence. It was a strange wake-up call. These past few weeks had been the closest thing to heaven for Mikasa, the closest thing to real happiness—because she had been lucky. All too quickly she had forgotten the weight the mandate continued to press down over the people’s heads, and this reminder was just an added taste of sobriety that kept her feet glued to the ground.

People were still miserable. They were still suffering.

“Never mind,” Celia said after the tense silence faded, her voice repentant. “Forget I said anything.”

Yet even after Mikasa had nodded, finished tugging her clothes and gear in place and walked out of the medical room into the darkened hallways, she couldn’t forget so easily. She wouldn’t, not for a while. Each step was only an affirming sound in her ears, which made her decision ground resolute roots in her chest.

Mikasa let the curls of planning and contemplation run intricate designs in her mind as she went through the days that followed the attack. Taking side routes toward the stables and memorizing logs of which horses were strongest and best fed had been simple affairs that she added to each calculation. The ruse of gathering this information for the expedition that would commence on Wednesday was easily accepted. Who would doubt or question her?

In her spare time—and that was very little—she busied herself with training, despite the few pains of her wounds. Dutifully, Mikasa took what medications she had been supplied and became the picture of silent obedience. Still, the passing hours only further reminded her of the plan preparing to hatch and the way Levi’s gaze slowly became less and less believing. Mikasa wouldn’t be surprised if he was already guessing what she was doing, and while she would firmly avoid any questions or confirmations of her supposed stay, there was only a matter of time.

Despite it all, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of bitterness. She would be disobeying orders—something she had not done in so long—and worse, going against the trust Levi gave her.

_“Promise me.”_

So soon… so soon. Their relationship had only just begun and already the ground between them was being covered in the thin films of broken promises. But this was a promise she could not keep, Mikasa told herself. She insisted that this was the right thing to do. Once upon a time, Levi had explained how no choice was truly the right choice, there would always be consequences. That was unavoidable.

Yet, she would be damned before allowing more things to be taken from her. There was too much in the unknown to rest easy. She would not lose him.

The walk from the medical wing to her room was uneventful and drowned in her thoughts. As much as routine demanded her to head to Levi’s room, where they now liked to reside as a couple (mainly because the bed was big enough for both of them to sleep comfortably), the day had been far too full of tensions that pressed exhaustion behind her eyes. The last thing she needed at this moment was another confrontation, another series of questions and yet another awkward staredown that forced her skin to shiver with the force of his brewing suspicions. A necessity called for nap.

This had been the only thing she cared to do the following hour or so before grabbing a late lunch, until she opened her door and spotted the single envelope laying on the ground a few inches within her quarters.

Frowning, Mikasa saw the familiar curves of her name upon the surface of the paper. Picking it off the ground, she shut the door behind her, confused as she slid a finger beneath the crease of the envelope and ripped the digit firmly through the material. There was a single sheet of paper within and Mikasa pulled it out as she walked over to her cot.

Unfolding it, her eyes found the beginning of the letter and followed the lines of awkward handwritting with a growing confusion, shock… and soon, pain-stricken horror.

_Mikasa,_

_I’m sorry. By the time you read this letter, I will most likely be gone. There is too much I need to know and find out. I know that we had promised to be together, that we were all a family. But this world has changed us. We’re no longer the same people we were before. I know now that there is no room for me in this world anymore. No matter what we do, or what we try, I am the last of the Titans and that will be the only thing people see me as. The last threat. While you, and Armin, and everyone else that we love and care for may not see me that way, we both know that it is only a matter of time before I am made an enemy and hunted down._

_It’s alright. I can no longer fight this reality, and that’s okay. But, I have to do this._

_I’m going to find Annie, Mikasa. I have to. Because I love her. Like you love Levi, like Armin loves Historia. I cannot afford to lose her now, not when she is the last person out there that can understand what it is to be the last of a species. I am human. But I am also a Titan._

_I have a power that will forever define me, and I would rather leave now while humanity still has a chance of freedom. I don’t know if we will ever speak or see each other again, but know that I am certain this is the only way. You will always mean everything to me, you will always be my family. I wish there could be another way… but there isn’t._

_I know that you will try to find me, try to prove to me that I can still fit in this new world. Don’t. When I find her, it will to take her away from this. To find freedom for ourselves and to leave the rest of humanity alone. I don’t know why, but I feel like she has been searching for me for this very reason._

_Please, forgive me…_

_\- Eren_

_P.S  
Make Captain Levi a happy man. He deserves it… more than any of us. _

The letter fell in slow swoops through the air, spinning through the sudden burst of wind that came with Mikasa’s figure bounding from her bed and out the door. Air burned through her nostrils as she ran. Sprinting with everything she had, Mikasa headed toward the stables, hoping that maybe she wasn’t too late.

_Eren… Eren… No. Please, no…_

Desperation made her chest ache as she flew down the halls, her feet colliding with the stone beneath as she tried to move faster… faster… faster…

Soldiers jumped out of the way as she ran, a few shouted indignantly, yet their cries fell to the wind as Mikasa hurried as quick as she could. _No, please no. Eren…_

Tears burned in her eyes, trailing fast roads down her cheeks and into the wind as she swept down corners and stairs. She took the staircases three at a time, fully leaping over the last six steps and landing in a roll on the ground. People let out exclamations as she ran as quickly as she could, hoping to find Eren’s head of hair over the crowds of faces and confused glances.

“Cadet Ackerman!” someone had shouted. A commanding officer. “What the hell is going on? Cadet Ackerman!”

Mikasa paid them no heed, cared nothing about following orders to stop as she burst out the main doors and let her feet carry her towards the stables. When she arrived, it was to the startled expressions of a few younger cadets, and their expressions became all the more frightened when they saw the wild expression over her face.

“You there!” She barked, pointing to a random youth holding onto a leather saddle. The blond boy squeaked a response, dropping the saddle and fumbling a salute to the bounding woman. “Has there been any one here requesting a horse? Quick, answer!”

“A-ah I-I, y-yes, ma’am—sir! Just an hour ago!” The teen replied, recoiling when she stepped close enough to tower over him.

“Was it a soldier? A man around my age? Did he have brown hair, green eyes? Was it Eren Jaeger?” The questions exploded past her lips rapid-fire, nearly overwhelming the bumbling cadet and he nodded so quickly and so vehemently, it was practically a blur.

“Which horse? When? Who allowed it?!” Mikasa continued, feeling the hysteria of losing her family choke the oxygen from her body, leaving her almost light headed and enraged. _Aunt Carla, oh god. I’m sorry._

The young kid stammered, pointing quickly in the direction of a stable, “Th-That one! He said he had permission for a perimeter check at the edge of the c-castle. P-p-please don’t hurt me!”

Mikasa stepped away from him, striding wide down the hay-covered cobblestone and the smell of rancid horse shit. The animals around let out anxious breaths as she passed through, shifting uncomfortably as Mikasa hurried and found the empty stable and searched for signs of any recent activity. _One hour… it’s been one hour…_

_I can still find him._

“Fetch me a saddle, NOW!” She bellowed, not paying the scrambling staff any more attention as she neared the closest stable and all but ripped the hinges off. The young woman’s mind flew, rapidly considering if she needed to grab her maneuver gear, hoping that if she moved she would catch him in time. But where would he go? Why would he leave just like this? What answers did he need? _What the hell was going on?_

He _loved_ her?

The horse saddled and prepped, Mikasa threw herself over the animal’s back, kicking its sides and making it burst through the stable doors and nearly running the cadets over. Wind blew in her hair and ears as she steered the beast toward the main gates, finding them still open and permitting soldiers in and out. Eyes narrowing, Mikasa gripped the reigns and nearly snapped them with ferocious zeal, yanking them back instead when a group of Military Policemen on horses rushed in the way.

The horse let out a high-pitched whinny of surprise and disdain, rearing so violently Mikasa had to cling harshly to its mane to keep from being thrown off. With a shout, she waited until the beast ceased its loud squeals and angry snorts.

“Cadet Ackerman!!” she heard when the horse finally fell back on its feet, hands shaking and heart pounding as it bounced angrily. Two of the men on horses steered their steeds closer, making soothing noises for the animal to calm down. Sure enough, it calmed down, yet it breathed in anxious gusts, upset. The man in charge of the group was staring her down with a fierce look, a sudden gust of chilled air hit her. Mikasa shivered. “What is the meaning of this? You have not been authorized to exit the castle for any reason!”

“Please step out of the way, sir,” Mikasa responded, hands gripping tight over the leather of her reins. “I have to go outside.”

“And why would I do so? Is there something that I must be aware of?” The officer asked. Mikasa opened her mouth, more than ready to exclaim Eren’s disappearance and insist that a party be sent out to search for him, when it finally hit her.

Eren’s disappearance would be seen as nothing more than desertion. Desertion in the military was a highly punishable crime that would be dealt with immediate incarceration, or worse… forced exile deep within the Capital’s rule. If she exposed him… Eren would be found, captured, and thrown in a cell—then the accusations would start. He would be accused of conspiring to join with Annie, then worst case scenario, he would be accused of collaborating in the attack on the castle.

It would be the perfect opportunity for the Military Police to take her brother, apprehend him and make him disappear somewhere she would never be able to reach. God knows what they would do to him… No. The only way she could protect him was to keep this quiet. No one else must know.

“Well?!” The officer exclaimed again. Mikasa bit down on her cheek and let her hands fall on her lap, defeated and forlorn.

“It… It’s nothing, sir.” She said through gritted teeth. “I just… I wanted to go for a ride. That is all.”

“There is too much to be done for you to mess around, soldier!” The man shouted, obviously displeased with her answer. “Unsaddle that horse and report to your commanding officer! We don’t have time to entertain mindless bouts of hysteria, especially by you, Ackerman. Reordan, see to it that Cadet Ackerman does as she is told!”

“Yes, sir.” She heard the man by her side say. Silently, she allowed them to take the reins from her hands. Pushing herself off the saddle, Mikasa walked next to her horse, biting down on her teeth to restrain the sobs from breaking through her chest. With effort, Mikasa managed to steel her expression into a flat slate of indifference. She easily ignored the curious and frightened glances of the cadets within the stable. She spotted the same cadet she had scared earlier and handed the reins over to him without so much as an apology or parting glance.

Mikasa allowed herself to be escorted out of the stables and into the castle. No words were exchanged between her and the man assigned to walk her through the halls, yet she could feel the immense curiosity burning against her scalp whenever he chanced glances over to her. Tension coiled sharp within her muscles, making her wanting nothing more than to escape somewhere and punch her frustrations away, to escape and find Eren.

Only, she had no clue where he had gone, no clue which way to go and try to follow him. The thought crossed her mind to tell Levi, to explain to him what had happened and show him Eren’s letter. Something told her that that would not work out so well, either. Levi would realize Mikasa’s vehemence at going along with the expedition. No doubt, he would be among the first to demonstrate his idea of punishment over Eren if and when they found him.

It was not that Mikasa didn’t trust Levi in finding him. Of everyone in the world, she knew Levi to be the only person capable enough for finding the titan shifter and bringing him back kicking and screaming.

Yet, she knew that once the Captain knew… he would make absolutely sure that she never stepped more than a foot outside of the castle walls. It was bad enough she was pregnant… but with this… and all the stress that came with it… He would not risk a chance of her leaving, thereby ruining her opportunity to go after him.

No… Mikasa would not be able to tell him, and while it wounded her to keep a secret, a part of her bitterly countered with a simple thought of cold logic. _He has no problem keeping secrets. What’s this one among many?_

Stopping mid-stride, Mikasa mulled the last of this decision, feeling the cold left over by the outside air seep deep within her blood and clear her hysteric mind. “Cadet Ackerman?” The soldier at her side voiced and she looked back into his eyes.

“This is far enough, Sergeant,” she said after quickly assessing the tags on his lapels. “I can walk myself from here… I’m sure you have other duties to look to.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do, Ackerman,” the soldier replied. “My orders were to take you to your commanding officer.”

“My commanding officer is my future husband, Captain Levi. I assure you, I will get there and it’ll be best if I get there alone.” At the sound of Levi’s rank and status, her escort paled before nodding once. He stood to attention and they exchanged salutes before he walked off, leaving her alone in the hallway.

Mikasa inhaled slowly, letting her mind adjust over these new circumstances. She was no genius like Armin, and while Levi most likely already suspected her… Mikasa would make sure Eren’s disappearance remain under the radar for as long as possible. She would slip away. She will find Eren and hopefully bring him back under different circumstances. She had to.

She had no other choice now. Turning on her heel, Mikasa walked back toward her bedroom with the full intent to prepare what belongings she had for the chase that would follow as soon as the expedition took off.

By the time dinner came around, Mikasa had prepared everything that she needed. The only thing that mattered now was to convince her fiancée that she would not be leaving the castle. It would be no easy feat, and would require the utmost delicacy, yet if Mikasa knew him as well as she did, then she knew that there would be no time lost in the effort.

That evening, she had gathered the tray of food for both herself and the Captain, making it an extra point to prepare a pot of black tea and a couple of cups stacked by their meals. Her mind carried itself through the necessary words she had to say when in the company of her future husband. With easy-going strides, she made her way toward Levi’s study, focusing her energy to control her expression, and maintain calm. When she knocked, he was already there opening the door.

“I’ve brought dinner,” she greeted, giving him a soft smile. Levi blinked, peering over the tray in her hands before landing on her face. He nodded, and let her through. Casually, she placed their meals over his desk, mindful of the order and documents.

“You carried that on your own?” he asked. Mikasa bristled.

“I can still carry things, I’m not helpless.” Damn. Wincing, Mikasa cleared her throat and forced her expression to soften. “Sorry, it’s… it’s been a long day.”

Levi nodded, grey eyes dark despite the lamp light. Slowly he crossed the space between them and she extended a hand for him to gather within his. “Anything new?” The question nearly made her tense beneath his gaze, and despite how much she tried not to show her worry beneath his scrutiny, she could feel herself slipping already.

“No,” she said, sighing and pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve just been busy making sure everything was prepared…”

For a short moment, Levi said nothing and the hold on her hand squeezed with something that must’ve been comfort but felt pinching. “Sit.” The order was low, his voice equable. “You must be tired.”

Mikasa’s shoulders slumped and she nodded, smiling again when he pulled away to grab a chair for her to sit on. “I must say, this special treatment is a nice change.” The word almost felt natural over her tongue, and she hoped he believed it.

“Don’t get used to it,” he grunted, but it was with the usual tone he saved for their banter. Mikasa could almost feel herself fall back into the warmth of their casual synchronicity, let it find its usual spot in her chest and affection.

When he sat across from her, though, she knew that the tension still remained like a stubborn leech. Silence took over as they dug their forks into their meal, both of them chewing quietly and equally refusing to meet gazes due to the underlying pressure. The meal was average, the silence too overbearing. Tasting had become a failing effort into routine, and before Mikasa knew it, her plate was empty while her stomach remained unsatisfied and tight.

“Tea?” Levi’s voice filtered through the space, nearly startling her. When her eyes jumped to his, it was to a waiting look, his hand moving to grab the teapot resting by their meals.

“Oh, let me,” Mikasa muttered, quickly leaning over and taking the pot from his grasp, and tried not to flinch when their skin brushed together. Levi rose a brow, but his eyes narrowed and he let her move about to placing the cup within his reach. The sound of the dark liquid pouring into the porcelain followed their breaths, whirling within the cup like falling seconds in time and making the string between them tighten.

Mikasa settled back in her chair when she was done serving herself a cup, her fingers resting against the edge of her drink. Before she could attempt to strike casual conversation, Levi was taking a breath, “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine…” she replied, meeting his eyes with as much focus as she could permit herself. All the while, the cogs in her mind worked, and the sinking feeling in her stomach proceeded to take the smile she gave him mindlessly.

“Mikasa,” he breathed her name and she could feel her heart flutter at the sound. “What is it?” And his gaze was so abruptly open and inviting, Mikasa felt her walls shake just slightly. It was this expression that had allowed her to open up to him in the dark, within the confines of their bed and their privacy. It had been the very expression that had captured her attention on him for the very first time, all those months— _years—_ ago and made her see him as someone human. Someone who could very well understand and empathize.

Maybe he would understand…

“I…” She breathed, voice wavering slightly. Levi slowly placed his cup back down over the tray, letting his eyes fall over hers simply and without expectation, yet something in his narrow eyes made her hesitate. _No._ “It’s just… you’re leaving tomorrow…”

Instantly his gaze softened and her throat constricted with the effortless way she had easily brushed passed his suspicion. He understood, but not the truth. With a gentle crease of his eyebrows, he reached over from his side of the table and gathered her hand against his again. It was so easy for him to believe that her tremors were because of her disdain in their incoming separation. It was so easy… and the deception made her feel sick to her bones.

“I will be fine,” he murmured gently. “We’ll be alright.”

Tears rose against her lashes before she could stop them, and the weight of this clandestine information burrowed like a tick in her as he stood and _believed_. “Oi,” he hummed, walking around the desk to place a hand beneath her jaw. “None of that now.”

Mikasa let out a short gasp, an attempt at a chortle that decided on being a cracked sob. He bent down and when his mouth met hers it was in a gentle touch that turned desperate at her insistence. Rising from her seat, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him tight against her chest and pressing his hair through her fingers. Their lips parted once, twice, three times as she angled her chin to kiss him over and over again. Perhaps it was the hormones that made her feel so unusually fragile beneath his touch, or perhaps it was the knowledge that this could very well be the last time she had him beneath her mouth. Whatever it was, Mikasa knew without a doubt that this was unavoidable. She needed him with a power she had not felt since their first night together.

She had hoped so desperately, had hoped so foolishly that theirs would be a story that would suffer little in this world free of Titans. But, as it was, their world was not as free as she wished it to be, as they deserved it would be.

“I love you,” Mikasa sighed against his lips, blinking her eyes and meeting his through the thin space between their mouths and souls. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he replied, lips meeting with hers again and she could see and feel the need for their skin to meet again rise like molten lead between them. Fusing them to each other, warping them to want nothing more than to wish and wish foolishly. Stumbling, she pulled him to the couch by the window, her hands working against the buckles of his gear and shivering when his hands tugged the material of shirt out of her pants.

He landed against the couch first and sat upright, eyes hazy and half-lidded as she stood above him. Mikasa offered him a final smile as she slid over his lap, her knees digging into the cushions by his hips. With a tender touch, she traced the thin scars over his skin, her thumb finding the rough scab of the newest wound resting against his cheekbone. Levi let his eyes flutter close as she caressed the ridge on his skin and press a soft kiss to its center. When she pulled away, he was gazing at her and there was a _knowing_ in his eyes that made her stop.

Something confirmed in his eyes, something agreed in hers, and despite the way their bodies fit together, she could feel the distance already begin to build. Her fingers found his clothes again, and his found her curves beneath the fabric of her uniform. Desperation made their motions hurried, made them care nothing for the clothing that was tossed from heated skin and coiling muscles. Touches were more than memorizing, they were punishing and greedy, hungry and wanting. Gasps and groans followed the heavy-set burdens of their desires. Before she knew it, Mikasa was on her back, hissing softly as he breathed and kissed and tasted the edges of her neck and the foundations of her nervous system.

_No turning back now._

Then she looked at him, and he looked at her.

Neither could dare to back down.

Not this time.

* * *

_Three days later_

From within a stolen hood, patience waited. So simply had information been located. So easily the next path chosen.

_He will come. I know it._

Fingers reached and gripped the curves of hilts and the weight of super steel. The chilled air felt welcome against hot flesh, billowing the material of a green cloak to chase the movements of wind and dark intentions.

_He will come._

It was only a matter of time. It was only a matter of precision, waiting, and seizing opportunities falling.

_Eren._


	17. The Clock Strikes One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The trust of the innocent is the Liar’s most useful tool.”  
> \-- Stephen King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired tracks: I have Begun My Ascent – Jessica Curry, Vintage – Break of Reality, Divenire – Ludovico Einaudi, Drift Apart – Break of Reality

It was mid-morning. Rays of unfiltered sunlight flooded between the still gaps of translucent blinds—if one could even call them that—hitting the crinkled face of the half-asleep half-exasperated Lieutenant Major Marlo Sand. Blinking warily, he groaned, lifting an arm towards the blinds and casting a weak shadow over his eyes to extend some relief from the brightness. Damn.

He had overslept. Again.

Spots and blurry squiggles fluttered out of sight as the bowl-cut pushed himself on his elbows to peer over the contents of his room, then the vacant space on his bed. Clicking his tongue, Marlo shoved his legs through the wrinkles and tangled sheets that clung to his skin. With a sigh, he sought for evidence of another, half-beginning to wonder if he had imagined the night of empty passion. Yet his state of undress and the obvious signs on his bed dropped that vague inclination down a very acidic pit.

This wouldn’t be the first time Hitch abandoned him to morning sunlight and a stuffy bed-chamber. He almost hated himself for admitting that it would not be the last.

With practiced and experienced motions, Marlo shoved his legs through his drawers and trousers, fingers working the belts around his waist and thighs deftly. He sniffed roughly through a dust stuffed nose and made a mental note to open a window in just a short moment. An abrupt knock to his door stopped his musings, making his eyebrows rise and his hands pause at his hips.

He croaked, “What?” The word split between a quick throat clearing and grunt as he moved to answer, stubbing his toe on that infuriating floorboard that liked to poke out at the most inopportune of times.

“You up yet, Sand?” The exasperation mounted upon recognizing the voice and Marlo nearly cursed out loud.

“Up and awake,” he replied with enough forced cheerfulness that it encouraged sarcasm through the door. The tone of his voice instantly flattened, unamused, “What do you want, Hitch?”

“Just making sure last night’s events didn’t kill you,” was her sneering response. He could picture the familiar smirk over her face just as easily as counting fingers. “How’s your back?”

At the inquiry, it seemed said portion of his body threw the alarm of sore scratches into the forefront of his mind. Scowling, the tall soldier reached a hand over his shoulder to graze the skin, teeth biting on his lip when he found the mauled flesh.

“Fine,” He shot back and turned away from the door, not bothering to waste time opening it for her. She would do that soon enough. “Are you here to admire your handiwork or is this little chat going anywhere?”

Sure enough, the door knob gave a squeak and exhale as the door swung inward, revealing his immediate equal and bedtime partner. Marlo winced again, realizing he had left his back open to her scrutiny and when he turned to try to lessen the embarrassment Hitch was already grinning her fox-like smile.

“I got you good,” she whistled, placing her hands on her hips and rapping her fingertips over her belt. Marlo’s scowl deepened as his movements to cover himself became unnecessarily violent. Snatching his discarded shirt from the ground, he tossed it on his bed before sitting on the edge, hands jumping toward his boots in the shape of claws. “Oh come on, you liked it.”

“Well, I’m not going to like it during my rounds today,” He grumbled tightly, throwing her a glare as he yanked his left leg into a shoe. Hitch’s smile turned predatory.

“How about a chance for revenge?” Marlo rose a brow, confusion mixing with a lack of appreciation the second she kicked the door shut and locked it. His words died on his tongue when she took several steps and nudged her hand over his jaw, yanking his gaze to smolder beneath her darkened stare.

“Come on, Marlo,” she hissed softly. “Make me forget how to walk.”

“Hitch—no, I’ve already overslept…” He trailed off, his breath hitching when her fingernails slid down from his shoulders to his navel before finding the buckle of his belt.

“Pretty please?” She whispered, lowering herself to press her mouth just above his. “Besides, _Lieutenant Major_ , we’re not cadets anymore. We can afford a few hours of extra sleep.”

Inwardly swearing, Marlo felt his adamant revulsion empty its way out his mouth in a stuttered gasp when he felt her dig her hands down the front of his pants, the stimulation vacating his mind despite himself. In just mere moments, she was naked and beneath him, grunting along in high pitched moans as he pushed her on her side and yanked a leg high over his shoulder to spare him anymore scratches from her fingernails. However, the new angle provided a whole range of noises from Hitch that made Marlo buck with a strength and zeal he was pretty certain would not become available later when he needed it. 

“You’ll be limping when I’m through with you,” he had growled against her neck and Hitch replied with a smirk against his shoulder. A few euphoric spasms and stuttering screams muffled into a pillow later, Marlo peeled himself off Hitch’s thirst quenched skin. It was easy to ignore the blush and fulfilled gleam in her eyes, especially after he felt his own relief cast a different kind of soreness over his body.

“Ah, I can always trust you to take care of me just how I like,” Hitch said, sighing deeply after catching her breath. Then her face soured, lips pursing before her amber eyes landed over her hips, “Not that I’m complaining, but you forgot to pull out.”

Marlo rolled his eyes. “We’re matched. Like it matters if I pull out or not.”

“Oi, I don’t want to get pregnant right now, limp-dick.” Hitch grumbled, pushing her arms under her head, and gave a little stretch. “I don’t mind the exclusive freedom from the fraternization rule, and the sex is pretty great, but I’d like to avoid breeding runts right now.”

Not wanting to get into another discussion concerning the mandate and the inevitable icy demeanor his partner would drown herself in despite their post-coital bliss, he shrugged and busied himself with pushing his pants back over his hips and tying the belts securely. “Fine. I’ll pull out next time. Get dressed, Hitch,” Marlo sighed, disliking the satiated tone hiding in his own voice. “We’ve got rounds to cover.”

“I doubt I can get up now, Lieutenant,” Hitch chortled, clicking her tongue as she settled comfortably in his bed. “I can hardly feel my legs after our little round of rough sex.”

Marlo shook his head, feeling the thin strands of his short hair stick to his sweaty forehead, musing on how he would need to take a shower immediately. “Nevertheless,” he said, “we follow orders. Now get off my bed.”

“That reminds me,” she hummed after pointedly ignoring him and turning on her stomach, peering up at him through her lashes. “Your cousin sent you a letter.”

Whatever movements the tall bowl-cut had been focused on, ceased when he turned to face her, Hitch was pulling herself up into a sitting position, smile wiped clean from her face. Once upon a time, he would have been completely distracted by her bare chest peering up at him and the way her hair stuck out in uneven angles after being taken so roughly. He would have then fought off urges to attempt gentler connections of intimacy, to caress her skin and press languid kisses to the junctures of her flesh and to discover the inner workings of her mind. However, she had made it abundantly clear that she wanted none of that. She preferred rough sex over sweet love-making, and if he ever tried to slow down, she would always throw him on his back and remind him how this union of theirs was not a choice, but a strict following of orders.

Now, his mind had slowed, not because of her shameless self exposure, but by the very serious matter at hand. “So soon?” He asked, low and suddenly paranoid they would be listened in on.

“Relax,” Hitch’s amber eyes narrowed in weak annoyance. “I didn’t ask for sex just because I was horny. Our little round of intense passion deafened the ears in the walls for a while.”

Marlo’s eyebrows rose, somewhat impressed and even a little affronted by her ulterior motives. “Wait… you planned—never mind, why? It’s too soon. Autumn has not passed yet.”

She shrugged in response, shrugging on her now-freshly wrinkled shirt. “Like I would know. But, I’m sure it’s _awfully_ important.”

The young Lieutenant Major bit down on his lips, fingers clenching tight in his palms as he tried to think. _This isn’t good._ Certainly not. Something must have happened… otherwise they wouldn’t be receiving information until later. Much later. So why? Lips pressed into a fine line, Marlo shrugged off the idea of a shower for the present moment and all but jumped back into a clean uniform. “Where’s the letter now?”

“In your office,” Hitch reported, sliding her slender legs out over the side of his bed. “I made sure to place it in your first drawer before anyone asked any questions.” At this she rolled her eyes, knowing full well that the act had been unnecessary, but it would do the job in quelling any bursts of panicked paranoia from the tall man.

“And you’re certain no one saw you?” The question made her sigh and drop her chin to her chest. When she glanced back up, Marlo was yanking a jacket over his arm and tying the knots of a boot with the other. It would have been almost comical if not for the focused glaze in his eye. She didn’t know what stopped her from teasing him, but it didn’t matter.

“Yes, absolutely certain.” Extending her arms, she stretched yet again and let loose a loud yawn. “Now get going, I’ll meet you there later.”

Once his boots were on securely, the silver eyed Lieutenant Major had turned in a frantic spin to search, no doubt, for the pin that announced his position and status. “It’s on the window sill,” Hitch pointed with a jerk of her chin, not bothering to move an inch as he fussed left and right.

“Don’t just sit there,” He grunted as he walked by her to lean over his bed and yanked the elusive tag from beneath the pathetic blinds. Hitch shrugged again and watched him fumble with it uselessly on his lapel. With another exasperated sigh, she pushed herself up to her feet and batted his hands away.

“You’re a fucking basket case, Sand.” Thin black eyebrows furrowed, yet Marlo kept whatever comeback waiting to snap out tucked tightly beneath his tongue. Instead, he watched her with growing curiosity as she extended herself to her tiptoes to fully reach her hands against his jacket, her lips pursing with light concentration. “There,” She sighed and he would’ve returned with an acerbic ‘thank you’ when she suddenly wobbled to the side.

Instinctively, his hands shot out and gripped her around her waist, holding her steady from falling over, “Easy.”

Hitch snorted again, laughing to herself as soon as he let go and straightened his jacket. “I might actually end up limping,” Hitch mused with a quirk of her lips. “Awesome.”

Marlo ignored her, “I’ll see you later. Remember, let no one follow you.”

She lifted her fist in a mock salute, expression still syrupy from the post-bliss glow, “Sir, yes, sir.” With a nod and final check of his surroundings for possible things he may have forgotten in his rush, Marlo mindlessly pressed a swift kiss to her lips, turned, and left his room. He didn’t realize she had frozen in surprise not long after they had parted. Nor would it hit him for a while, actually. Instead, he closed the door behind him and walked down the hallway of the Military Police Headquarters.

The trek was as uneventful as Hitch would have insisted if she had walked at his side, yet where her voice would have been, the silence and pressure of knowledge pressed against him instead. Silver eyes blinked back and forth, suspicious and focused over the stones beneath his feet, the designs of carpets and tapestries all around.

Once his feet landed on the well worn roads of the main halls, Marlo felt his nerves strain. Cadets and Policemen alike scurried back and forth throughout the busy hallway, many sporting sour expressions of having duties forced on them they would rather save for another time. The Lieutenant Major could sympathize, remembering the pile of paperwork waiting for him in his office.

“Lieutenant Major, sir!” He heard and felt the surprise jolt a fierce urge to sprint out of there nearly stun the air out of him. When he turned, his expression was tense, not with irritation (more like a desperate hope he wasn’t caught) but with a sort of strained look. A young corporal with bright blue eyes and a sort of mousy haircut, swerved around the bustling traffic, ushering a swift apology when he nearly barreled into a hustling officer. Light brown hair flicked down between his eyes as he gave the superior officer a quick salute.

Marlo recognized him, “Corporal McKenzie,” he nearly kicked himself when his voice came out with a slight waver. “I’m busy, bother me some time later.” He had hoped that would’ve been the end of it, instead the boy kept pace beside him.

“Actually, sir, this is about an issue with some of the shipments that Sgt. Hugo had intercepted from the lower ring. I know this isn’t part of your area of expertise, sir,” the boy added quickly, “but my orders were to ensure all documentation for those shipments checked out. When I spoke to Lieutenant Major Feulner about it, he told me to report to you.”

Marlo could already feel a huge tick beginning to gnaw at his eyebrow. _Dammit Boris._ The man couldn’t seem to do his job without wanting to dump it on someone else. “Look, kid, I handle issues with people from the lower ring. Not shipments or anything having to do with things that aren’t human. If your case has anything to do with illegal transport of people into the city, then we can continue this conversation.”

The Corporal let out a slight noise of frustration, thick brown eyebrows furrowing over his nose as he jogged to catch up to Marlo’s long strides. “Right, I understand that sir, but this shipment does have to do with people… of a sort.” They turned down a smaller hallway, and the boy trailed off as his eyes followed the movement of people between offices and long panes of glass that separated office spaces.

When they finally turned a final corridor, Marlo could only try to keep his wits about him when the boy continued to follow him up a flight of stairs and down a quieter hall for higher ranked officials. It seemed the boy had caught his second wind because he had jogged a bit further ahead before whirling in front of the tall man, face looking nervous. “Sir… it has to do with drugs.”

Marlo nearly brushed past him, “I just said I don’t handle cases that don’t include people, kid. Look if there was an escaped convict running around, then I would be able to help—” the young boy stepped around him again, gaze bearing a heavier weight of truth behind the periwinkle of his irises.

“Major Feulner made it clear that I needed to speak to you about this…” McKenzie urged, lowering his voice and glancing around with an unease that unsettled. “He said it involved your cousin…”Alarms shot off in Marlo’s head and without another word, he grabbed the kid around the shoulder and all but yanked him down the direction of his office.

“Oi, Marlo! How’s Hitch doing?” The shout of a passing officer made the tall man bristle, yet he forced out a slight smile and released the boy at his side.

“Walk normally,” He ordered quietly, before falling into a quick and easy rhythm that nearly forced the brunet behind him to run to catch up. “She’s fine, now shut up, Richard. How go the missing person’s reports?”

To his disgust, the officer shrugged, “They’re under dwellers, Marlo. I’d have better luck finding gold down there than finding a couple of lost brats.”

“Just do your goddamn job, Richard, would you? Fuck’s sake,” Marlo snapped, throwing the man a fierce glare that was laughed and waved off. With a scoff of derision, the tall man moved back in the direction of his work space, the quick steps of the junior officer accentuating faster beats behind his even footsteps.

The moment they reached the office, Marlo was trying to keep his breathing steady, feeling the back of his neck already slick with perspiration. “Sorry, sir…” McKenzie muttered, anxiously tugging at his sleeves, “But, uh… who’s Hitch?”

“My match,” the door unlocked with a twist and turn of a key. Marlo pushed through quick enough to let the kid in and shut it firmly behind him. The office was small, enough to situate two to three people comfortably, and had only one window, gray light of midday poured inside in a dreary glow. Quickly, Marlo moved toward his desk, jaw muscles working tightly as he unlocked the first drawer and found the envelope attached to a longer and dark shaded packet bearing the symbol of the Garrison.

With a slow sigh of relief, Marlo sat down, curling his fingers together in a pensive hold. “How much has Boris—the Lieutenant Major—told you of the situation, Corporal? Please sit.”

In awkward turns, the young man all but stumbled his way onto the chair in front of the desk. “I’m not sure…I follow, sir.”

Marlo’s eyes flashed, grave as he lowered his hands to brace against the wood of his desk. “Explain what you know.”

McKenzie gulped nervously before reaching into his jacket, pulling out a thin packet. With some hesitance, the boy placed the large envelope over the desk. “For the past three months, sir, there has been activity between the government and the shipment of very delicate formulas, meant to combat diseases and help improve people’s lives. So far, we’ve been allowed to document these shipments from the Underground toward the Capital. The last person who I’ve now replaced, was responsible for making sure each shipment was accounted and mailed out accordingly sir…”

Marlo nodded slowly, opening the packet and pulling out a few data sheets, covered in various numbers, signatures… dates…

McKenzie proceeded, “See, three months ago, we were only receiving a shipment every two weeks. Now, the shipments have increased to once every three days. This is acceptable, because of the expected demand for the rest of the people, correct? Well, I’m not entirely certain about that at this point…”

“Why do you think so?” Marlo inquired. McKenzie gestured to a specific date closer to the present.

“On this date, the number of shipments increased, but I found something strange, sir.” He paused, appearing slightly confused and disconcerted. “See, our original shipments were toward Stohess Central Command, and the Medical Facility near Wall Sina. In grand total there were ten crates sent out from the Underground facilities, every three days. Except, here… there are eleven crates. One the next shipment, it goes back to ten—I thought it was a miscount error, but look—three shipments later, we get eleven crates being sent out. However, when I wired Stohess Central Command or the Med Bay by Sina to ask about this miscount, they stated they never received an additional shipment.”

Marlo frowned, finding the data the boy mentioned right before his eyes, even seeing a document from Stohess Central, confirming the number. “How many crates have gone missing, Corporal?”

McKenzie blew a short sigh through his lips, lifting a hand over his forehead, “…If my calculations are correct, sir… around twenty crates.”

“This formula,” the Lt. Major motioned, straightening in his chair with a perplexed expression. “Do you know what kind of drug that is?”

Light brown hair swayed with the way the boy bobbed his head up and down, “Well, supposedly, it’s some kind of healing booster, sir. Designed to improve immune system functions and battle against wounds and infections… that sort of thing. Like a vaccine.”

At this, Marlo blinked quickly, thoroughly confused. _A vaccine?_ What did this have to do with anything? Slowly, the older man pressed the tips of his fingers to the bridge of his long nose, squeezing right by the corner of his eyes to quell a growing stress headache. “It’s a vaccine?”

“Thing is, sir, I was able to request information on the drug… it took a couple of weeks but I was able to receive a letter… here.” The Corporal reached over and swept his hands through the documents in front of Marlo, pulling at a single sheet before placing it directly in sight.

“I only asked this on the ruse that the Central Command had a few questions in ensuring the formula hadn’t been changed in anyway, lucky for me they seemed too focused on defending integrity than hiding secrets…”

Marlo’s eyes skimmed the document, even seeing a small list the letter’s writer had included that—while obviously incomplete—did include some names of chemicals and the like the officer had never heard of before.

“What’s this… this, nitrosan…nitro,” Marlo stammered, scowling at the complicated looking word.

“Nitrosoguanidine, sir,” McKenzie corrected, and when Marlo looked up, the boy looked severely troubled.

“Well, what is it?”

McKenzie opened his mouth, as if uncertain before taking in a breath, “Well, I asked Stohess General Academy’s Professor Van Gocken about this list of chemicals, right? He said it’s more commonly known as NTG… it’s a mutagen sir.”

Marlo was no idiot, he may not be extremely educated, but he knew what the word mutagen meant. From what medical training he had received in his years as a policeman, he could also suspect that that wasn’t the usual thing found in something as good-intentioned as medicine. _What’s a mutagen doing in a vaccine?_ “Can you try to discover the reason behind the use of this chemical, Corporal?”

McKenzie nodded, blue eyes looking gray beneath the pale light. “I’ve been in contact with the Professor… I should be able to get you more data soon, sir.”

Another question occurred to the older man, “…How many vaccines had been shipped out?”

“Each crate can hold up to a hundred…two hundred at a time, sir. I would estimate in the thousands. Interestingly enough, none of these have made their way to any known hospital or pharmacy for use. Like they’re being made for the purpose of being stored.” McKenzie’s lips pursed slightly before sighing.

Marlo nodded stoutly, mind racing in spinning angles, trying to understand...when a single idea blossomed within his mind, making all the whirrings of collection stop abruptly. Stored? _Or saved specifically for a later time?_ A single twinge of horror threatened to cave the rest of his stress anxious chest. _They couldn’t possibly… could they?_

“Thank you, Corporal,” the black haired man nodded, lifting from his seat to extend a hand. McKenzie scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking his knees against the desk as he reached out to take Marlo’s hand and shake it firmly. “I trust you will be discreet in your investigations,” the boy nodded, swallowing thickly instead of responding. Letting go, the light haired young man pressed his fist in a salute before excusing himself.

The moment the door shut and Marlo was surely alone, he slumped back down in his chair. The thing was already old and rickety, the leather—once plush and cozy to a higher up—was flat and offered little comfort in light of this latest development. As he sat and brooded, he allowed himself to wish that perhaps the situation could be easily explained… that his idea was truly as outlandish and far-fetched as it would sound if said out loud.

This wouldn’t be the first time the government would do something like this… Marlo knew this, but he hoped anyway. Hoped, because if he did, he would be resigning himself to the recognition of a darker power struggle at play. At twenty two years old, Marlo felt aged. He could feel the weight of his bones sink against his skin and press against the uncomfortable chair. With a reluctant sigh, he reached into the open drawer and pulled out the letter and packet, placing it next to McKenzie’s number-scratched papers. Slowly, he stood again and headed over to the small fireplace to the left of his desk, stoking a fire to life just as he heard a familiar rap on his door.

“I’m here,” he announced, nearly grimacing when his voice sounded gruff even to himself. When the door opened, Hitch sauntered in, kicking it closed with the back of her heel.

“So, what’d your cousin want?” She asked.

Marlo shrugged, having almost forgotten about the correspondence. “Haven’t read it yet.”

“Really?” Hitch’s voice seemed to roll with the same attention she used to roll her eyes. “No one is around, but if you want to go another round to make sure we’ve got privacy…”

“That’s not why,” he snapped, tossing a poker back at the wall carelessly. When he turned to face her, her amber eyes were peering up at him curiously. “I wasn’t waiting for you either, so don’t bother asking.” With a swift turn of his heel, he all but stomped back toward his chair, nearly throwing himself on it before shooting a glare at the closed information sitting innocently on the wood.

Hitch placed her knuckles on her hips, “Then, what are you waiting for?”

In a flash, Marlo turned his glare full force at the short haired woman, hating how he still could feel his body react at the way the shadows danced and flitted over her skin, made the amber in her irises glow. Feeling his nerves continue to fray even after she failed to respond, Marlo huffed. With an inward grunt of annoyance, he lurched forward and pressed his hands over the slim packet. Digging his finger within the seam, Marlo yanked without much care for decorum. The sound of ripping paper was deafening despite the soft crackle and popping from the soft fire.

Despite his focus on the important documents now spilling in his hands, he could not help but throw a glance over to the slim woman, noting how she inched closer with abundant curiosity. Before she could return his gaze, he was tearing his attention away from Hitch, redrawing all his attention to the letter now resting in his palms.

Marlo’s eyes quickly fell to the neat swoops of writing, scanning over the lines of inked importance. To her credit, Hitch remained completely still and silent, and this rare moment of quiet permitted Marlo to ingest the fullness of the words over the paper.

“What is it?” She asked after his eyes widened and he rose a hand to his mouth, his cheeks turning a weak gray pallor and appearing a deathly shade beneath the light that poured from his window.

The Lieutenant Major refused to speak, placing the letter back down on his desk absentmindedly. Hitch pushed forward after his muted reaction pressed forward without a foreseeable end, hand plucking at the letter despite his abrupt attempt to stop her. With a swift glare, she managed to stop him from scampering from his seat before finally letting her own eyes take in what had shocked him so.

“Hello Cousin,” she read aloud, batting away Marlo’s increased attempts at discretion with an exasperated flick of her wrist. Proceeding, Hitch moved away from the desk and out of reach, “It would seem winter is early this year. Hope you’ve got the scarf grandma sent you, be sure to wear it tight if the weather gets too chilled…”

She trailed off, turning to him with a confused scowl. Marlo heaved out a strained exhale, “Read it… carefully.”

Amber eyes returned to the paper, and then she saw, hidden behind the innocent words…

_…The time is upon us. Nile Dawk must cooperate, yet he cannot remain holed in a cell. Good luck. Report as soon as he is freed._

With a quick toss, Hitch threw the encrypted letter into the fire, turning back with a grave expression. Rage hung behind her eyes, like the flames now crackling louder with the newfound feast. “He expects us to do _what?_ ” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“We have our orders, Hitch,” Marlo replied without much effort in emotion, the daze in his eye persisting.

“How in the hell do they expect us to sneak the government’s biggest known criminal out of his tower? This isn’t a fucking fairy tale, Marlo! We can’t exactly go up to the man’s cell and ask him to pull down his damn hair! Especially without getting caught, mind you!”

It seemed her hostile response worked, snapping the tall dark haired man out of his shocked reverie enough to appear back in the present. With a short huff of air out of his nostrils, Marlo pushed his hands away from his mouth, silver eyes sharpening into lethal slits, “We have _our orders,_ Hitch. I don’t care how we go about it, and while we may not understand why we need to get him out...” his voice dropped several decibels, glancing over to the door with hinted paranoia, “…If this is what Commander Erwin needs, then we must obey.”

“Why does he want him out of jail anyway,” Hitch grumbled, furiously running a hand through her scalp, “Has he forgotten the complete and utter _shit_ we had to go through faking all that damn evidence against the guy in the first place? And now he wants us to spring him out?”

Her accomplice sighed again, shoulders slumping for a short moment. “We’re just going to have to trust him, _Hitch—_ ” he enunciated after she let out a brutal scoff of disgust, her head shaking vehemently, “—He hasn’t led us wrong yet— _Oi_ —neither of them have, alright? If anything, we should be thanking them for getting us this far. Would you be able to be enjoying the perks of being a high-end officer if not for their meticulous planning?”

Hitch whirled around again, teeth bared harshly, “This is different and you know it, Marlo. I don’t know about you but I am not as eager to jump into the chopping block for a couple of old geezers hell bent on tearing down the monarchy as much as you may be.” Marlo quickly threw a hand up to her mouth, hissing through his teeth as he urged her to keep her voice down.

“Hush, woman!” the soldier exclaimed as he rose from his chair to approach her. Hitch looked none too pleased at his sudden proximity, shoulders hitching like a threatened cat. “Do you want us figured out before we get anything done? No? Then quiet down. Look, you don’t have to help if you don’t want to. I’ll do it myself.”

“Don’t be absurd,” She rolled her eyes—he was beginning to hate that—again, crossing her arms and glaring at him with a pointed and dubious expression. “You’d get yourself killed. I mean, do you even have a plan?”

“I’ll work on that later, and look,” he stated, turning away once more to grasp the unopened Garrison crested packet. “There’s still more to be read. Our ‘cousin’ hasn’t left us with nothing, Hitch.”

“ _Your_ cousin,” She replied with a grunt, but did not argue any further even after he peeled the second packet open. For a tense while, they stood apart as he looked over the papers and further hidden orders. Hitch eyed him silently as he returned to his chair, lips pursed and shoulders still tight with coiled anticipation. “…You won’t do it alone.”

Marlo blinked up, confused at first, and then surprised. Hitch sighed begrudgingly, moving slender legs through the space to settle back into a chair in front of the desk. “If you’re going to do this, you’ll need my help, right? I still sort of owe them for what happened a couple of years ago…”

To his credit, Marlo’s expression softened, saying nothing in response for a slow moment. When her eyes motioned to the papers in his hands, he cleared his throat uncomfortably, “…Instructions here are pretty clear. So far, it would seem figuring out how to get Dawke out is going to fall on us. Once we do, we’ll be able to find an easy contact and place to hide him in after…”

And so they got to work, ignoring the awkward weight still settling and unsettling between them.

Moments later, the memory of the unplanned kiss he had planted on her lips earlier hit him with all the uncomfortable force of a falling titan. Yet, she didn’t say anything, and so he didn’t have to either.

* * *

“Got everything you need?” Dark eyes had glanced up, right hand covered in oats and horse spit. Standing several feet away, Li was like a looming cloud of red and frayed green, sullen freckles and an empty stare that didn’t bother feigning brighter emotions. Alex nodded, head bobbing before abruptly stopping as his eyes followed the edges of her figure, noted the way she stood without her usual stance of demanding attention. Instead, she looked as though she hadn’t slept in days, hand stroking the hide of his assigned steed with a mindless attention, red hair pulled back into a tight braid. It probably didn’t help that a lock of her hair fell against her jaw line in disarray, as if it had been ripped off with a blunt edge.

Judging by how she refused to look into his eyes, Alex noticed she was most likely petting the animal more to comfort herself. Still, he wasn’t sure if that was the case at all. Li was a very complex person, with so many different sides, angles, and edges, it was safer to admire her from afar.

Alex Van Gocken, eighteen years old and a bit of a shut-in, was not the kind of person who openly spoke out in a crowd. He wasn’t like his best friend Fitz, who openly called attention to himself even unknowingly, and he rather liked it that way. Having been raised in a family of twelve children, three of which died of an infantile disease his parents still hadn’t been given an explanation for, life as the middle child resulted in only one of two ways; you either get completely ignored or you don’t. His life was bred in the former circumstance. However, not having the kind of experience in asking questions openly came with its ups and downs, and currently, it was not an up.

It wasn’t a terrible ordeal: he never needed anything, mainly because by the time he felt inclined to ask, one of his siblings was already doing it anyway, so he let them do it for him. Growing up invisible came with its perks. While his voice never got very loud—not like it ever had to—his ability to observe and perceive was almost completely unmatched by his other siblings and, frankly, by anyone else’s he had met for that matter.

It was this ability that had allowed him to see through the Dorinski sisters. When Riza had nearly been killed against a group of titans nearly two years ago, he had realized that it was the right time to talk to Li about her aversion and callousness toward the taller sister. Only, he had been able to do that because Li had nearly broken down in horror-bitten fear the instant Riza had been caught within the monster’s grasp. A sight that not even Fitz had handled very well, and so naturally Alex had to do something…

Alas, the situation had called for a confrontation. Yes, Fitz was a loud mouth and an obnoxious human being with a streak of narcissistic arrogance, but the crazy-haired youth was also a bit of a coward when it came down to emotional expression.

That was then…

This was now.

“Yes,” he replied, holding his tongue from pointing out observations. Li nodded, a few thin strands falling from the plait behind her head to caress her cheeks. “You alright?”

“I’ve got everything I need,” She responded, moving away from the horse with a careful step. The animal nickered gently, bowing its head to nudge his elbow in search for more treats. Alex nodded, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Upon closer scrutiny, Li looked exhausted, a frayed version of herself covered in tired lines and haggard bruises hanging beneath her eyes. He winced internally. Perhaps it was a bad idea to ask such a question so soon after…

“How about you? Extra blades? Clothes?” If he didn’t know any better, he would believe that she was mothering him. Li had always been thorough, unintentionally pressing much like a mother hen would, but with the ruse of being militaristic and precise. Even with Riza gone, this side of her hadn’t died.

“I’ve got everything, Li,” Alex explained, offering her a small nod.

“Good,” she said, swiftly turning on her heel and marching away before he could ask about her welfare. Just as well, that much didn’t surprise him _. He doubted she would tell him how she was feeling…_

Still, he couldn’t help feeling at a loss as he watched her near her own horse and usher the creature out of its stable. He wouldn’t know where to start anyway, and so with a thickening throat, Alex returned to grooming his horse and busied himself with other assignments in packing equipment and provisions.

All the while he noticed the dark and gloomy expressions hanging over the rest of the squad; of course, it was to be expected. The stench of burnt flesh and leather still hung in the air and it seemed that since the attack on the castle, all shoving winds and bad weather had been thrown into a gray standstill.

With carts prepared, animals fed and ready, before they knew it, they were all horsed and waiting on their captain to arrive on his horse. The wait was not long. In the distance, the rumble of thunder gave a weak indication of rain and a cue for their leader to arrive. He was not alone. At his side walked the well-known Mikasa Ackerman, her eyes downcast and lips pressed into a thin line. 

Alex had been too far away to overhear anything, but as soon as Captain Levi swung himself over his horse, Mikasa had lifted a hand to grip to his dark green cloak. From afar, he saw her say something, and it must have been quietly spoken for he had heard nothing. The short captain nodded a response, lifting a hand away from the reins to run careful fingers through the fabric of her blood red scarf. The instant his hand met the red cloth, Mikasa had boldly gathered his fingers in a tight grip, forcing his knuckles to meet with her lips.

Slightly embarrassed to have witnessed such a display of affection, Alex modestly turned his gaze away. When he glanced back up, Mikasa was marching away without as much as a parting glance. Levi’s narrow eyes watched her go, jaw tightening. Even from a distance, Alex could guess there was a strong reluctance to part from his lover. Nevertheless, the Dragon squared his shoulders and kicked his horse into a trot. The sound of horse hooves echoed the rumbling in the distance, and soon they were galloping out of the castle grounds and into wide and green territory.

For two straight days since their departure early that Wednesday morning, the group had ridden in stiff silence, interrupted only by swift commands by their leader. The wind, the sound of pounding hooves, or focused intakes of breathing could not break the tension that spread like an ominous thunderhead over the shoulders of the squad. A pair of slate tinted eyes worked over the outlines of the riders ahead. The corresponding eyebrows furrowed beneath the neat hairline that fell just above half-closed eyelids, clearing in an expression of perplexed concentration.

With all his perceptive ability, Alex couldn’t quite figure out the reason behind this unusual silence. _(Then again, perhaps it wasn’t unusual. Perhaps, this was simply how Levi’s squad worked…)_ and so, while the lack of conversation spread like a thorn through his ears and nerves, Alex did what he did best; he kept his observations to himself. There was just a matter of patience… and the further they rode through the meadows and wide open spaces of the Fallen Wall Maria’s territory… the more the tension ate away at him.

It was just past noon on Friday. The skies persisted in their dreary gray tones and the sporadic growl of thunder tickled close within earshot to bring some trepidation, but not enough for the company to halt. Much of Wednesday had been this way, pronounced only by the intermittent glances thrown from Jean over to Armin’s stoic posture to Connie’s hunched figure. Strangely, Jean’s gaze would then follow to Li’s tense frame, eyesight narrowing before turning back to the road ahead. He wasn’t the only one. Connie, also, would throw hesitant glances toward the auburn haired woman, expression torn between forced apathy and torment. All of these little exchanges were all witnessed by Alex’s narrow and curious gaze.

Wednesday evening came with an unexpected stop from their captain’s horse. At first, Alex had believed the animal may have had an issue, but no sooner did the company cease did he note the animal was fine.

“Why are we stopping?” Armin asked, blond brows furrowing as he remained upon his horse even after the rest of the squad was getting off their respective steeds.

“We are setting up camp, Corporal,” Levi replied without a parting glance. “So get off your horse, and join Jean and Connie in getting the equipment from the cart.”

“Sir,” Armin still refused to move, hands tightening over the reins, “We still have time. If we just increase our pace, we can arrive at the scene by later tonight—”

“I will not endanger the squad just for a few hours of riding, Armin,” their leader rebuked, “While this terrain is no longer inhabited by Titans, there are other dangers. Bandits, thieves still trying to steal and sell our 3DMG equipment among others. While I am in charge, our pace will remain as it has been.”

“—But,” the blond soldier tried once more only to be cut off by Captain Levi’s irritated retort.

“ _That is all_ , Armin. Now get your ass off your horse, tie it down, and help set up camp, or do I have to throw you off myself?”

No more was spoken that night, save the occasional comment on the quick meal Jean had prepared. The rest of the evening was spent in the soup of tension, and while eyes were avoided, Alex watched shamelessly. He was not one to enjoy chattiness, preferring silence to opinions. Yet, this sort of attitude made him wonder until he began to reconsider the events prior to their departure.

Thursday passed not unlike the previous day. Meal times were short and when they camped for their second night, it was an hour before sundown. Only this time, Armin made no protests, but judging by the way his shoulders hunched into tight knots, it was obvious he had some contention toward their current route. Captain Levi spared no moments to waste, Alex realized this with some chagrin when they were risen just when first light peeked its fingers over the uneven horizon.

“Eat quickly,” the Captain had ordered Friday morning after the squad had risen. His eyes peered at them without mercy, caring not for the exhaustion and muscle soreness that came with two days of nonstop riding. “Today we will be changing formation.”

_Why?_ Alex had thought, but he kept his words to himself—more to avoid any unnecessary attention from the Dragon Captain than anything else—and concluded the remains of his breakfast.

“Armin, you ride behind me at my left. Jean, at my right. Connie and Dorinski, you two take their rear and Van Gocken, you will take the very back. You will be switching positions counterclockwise every four hours. Our pace will be brisk, and if it holds, we should be arriving at the scene of battle by later tonight.” No words of complaint, question, or even light morning commentary were expressed by their group, up until they saddled their horses.

Armin’s mare had been tied next to his and while he may have probably imagined it, the black haired boy swore he heard the blonde grumble beneath his breath, “ _We should have arrived yesterday. Why the hell are we taking the long way around?_ ”

Ah, so it would appear that he hadn’t been the only one to be curious about their lengthy ride. The scene of the Rogue and Female Titans’ fight had been reported to be just a hard day’s ride from the castle. A day and a half if their pace was at a good galloping speed. Alex had wondered why they hadn’t arrived yet. Instead, he wondered if they were taking an alternate route, and it now appeared he was not alone in these thoughts.

Following the past two days of tense riding, today appeared to be no different. The sky remained inked in gray tones and somber edges of promising rain. Clouds hung in low patches over spaces in the canopy above, and the longer they rode, the more it felt like the temperature was dropping. The chill in the air soon became biting, making the wind around them gnaw at their noses and ears, yet it was not cold enough to crystallize their breaths.

At one point, scattered rain struck at their exposed skin, like icy kisses of fleeting needles, neither painful nor alarming. Before they could approach the first switch in position, Captain Levi’s arm suddenly rose, catching everyone’s attention. Without wasting breath, he simply motioned to the right, and just like that they were changing course.

Down faded roads and through rough patches of terrain their route took them until, from a distance, Alex saw it.

Trees uprooted, large broken gashes wounded the earth and disturbed the tedious scenery. Without warning, the connection of evidence of a titanic scuffle had brought up a violent image of large faces, gaping maws, and blood spilling out of shattered bodies—Riza’s face came at him from the nightmarish picture of a Titan chewing on someone’s torso.

Eyes widening, body tensing, breath hitching tight behind his teeth, Alex felt the bouncing motions of his horse jar him and each pinprick of sporadic rainfall did nothing to shake him from the pit his mind had dropped him to.

“Alex…?” He heard but he could not look away, feeling his heart pound in his ears and he tried to push away the images of blood and violence.

“Alex!!” A grip on his arm made him nearly jerk away, but his attention had been uprooted—just like those trees—and brought before a pair of green eyes and freckled cheeks. Li fixed him a stern expression, pink lips chapped from the onslaught of cold wind, “You are safe. Remember where you are.”

_Remember where I am…_

“Is there a problem?” Jean’s voice came after the sense of reality crept through Alex’s vision and he could feel his breath filter through his lungs—cold, dry, and tasting of rain.

“No,” Li replied, tone clipped, green eyes refusing to look at the tall soldier. “Get back to formation,” she ordered. Alex’s eyes jumped from the scenery toward Jean, and he saw the pinched expression of thinly restrained irritation before he urged his horse forward and back to follow Armin’s.

“…Li?” Alex asked, nearly biting his tongue when her eyes swiveled back to drive a cold stare against his.

“Focus, Alex. Don’t make me leave you behind.” Nodding mutely, Alex watched her pull her horse away from his and he was alone to watch the billowing cloaks of the squad riding ahead of him. It didn’t take much long after that to arrive to the scene where Major Zoe’s report had described.

With a single movement of an arm, Levi ordered the squad to slow down. By the time they had reached a full stop, Alex’s face was tingling from the rush of cold wind and speckled with rain.

“Armin, lead the squad to those trees,” Levi announced, turning narrow eyes toward all of them after motioning to the nearest patch of untouched foliage. “If you find any bodies from fallen soldiers, tally them up and report back to me. Dorinski. Come with me.”

“Sir, permission to speak freely?” Armin asked abruptly, expression icy.

Levi scowled, “Denied.”

Without another word, the Captain urged his horse forward without waiting for Li to catch up. Alex let his teeth gnaw at his lower lip, knowing full well he was not the only one who noticed how Armin’s tense silence felt more murderous than it had the day prior. With a soft grunt of irritation, Armin yanked the reins of his horse—almost viciously—before leading them toward the trees Levi had motioned.

With a final glance toward the auburn haired woman, Alex followed Armin’s horse, noting everything that came after. Jean’s concerned glance toward the blonde and even the forlorn—even pained—expression that fell over Connie’s face when Li rode off to follow their Captain.

* * *

A cold breeze ripped from the sky and through her cloak, making a fierce shiver run up Li’s spine to rattle her teeth. Adjusting her cloak firmly around her neck, the young Senior Cadet followed the dark haired captain toward the scene of destruction. Curious, she followed silently, knowing full well that to ask any questions now would get her nowhere.

When they reached a prominent disturbance in the earth, Li felt what curiosity she had melt away to give space for the sharp toil of focus that made her blood speed in her veins. Something had crashed here… just as quick to picture the fight, the image of Eren’s titan landing roughly on his back made its way to the front of her mind. It didn’t take long before it was followed by something more primal.

_“You love her, don’t you?”_ Unbidden, the memory came and made her chest give a tight squeeze. _Eren shifted at her side, pushing away from where she had collapsed, their skin peeling away from each other. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be moaning her name…”_

_“I don’t see why I have to answer that…” He had muttered, reaching for his shirt. Li could taste blood._

_“You came harder that time than before, and that was not because you were shouting my name,” she replied. When he looked back at her, the razor edge in the green in his eyes was almost as enrapturing as it was frightening. Li realized then that he frightened her… he frightened her in a way that thrilled and made her seek him out and she almost hated him for it._

_“You didn’t exactly call out my name either, Li. Maybe you should tell Connie how you feel.”_

_Bristling and wanting to hurt him, Li hissed, “I don’t love him.”_

_He had the nerve to scoff through his nose. Li didn’t give him the chance to reach for another article of clothing. Livid, she shoved him back onto her bed, straddling him and moving before he could protest. “I hate you,” she panted, reaching down to sink her teeth against his throat, eliciting a surprised groan. “I don’t love him.”_

Yet, despite her efforts to bite on her tongue, to draw sensations that helped numb her mind from the guilt and anger rampaging through her chest, Li couldn’t help but find that his words pierced her through.

_I don’t love him._ She would die saying those words, but even though she let Eren’s hands wear grooves over her skin, she couldn’t stop wondering if it would feel the same if his hands were different… if his eyes were amber instead of green. If every time she leaned down to capture his lips between her teeth, she didn’t see a mirror image of emotional pain behind his eyes.

Connie had been something she had used to settle her anger. Yet, somewhere down the line of their forced conversations and the seconds he saw through her, something shifted. She could not say she didn’t at least like him, if only a little bit.

_“CONNIE!!” She screamed, desperate and foolishly hoping there was still a chance. Riza was slipping… slipping far away and she needed someone… anyone… “FITZ!” No one came… She had needed him. She needed him._

_And he wasn’t there._

“Maybe you should tell Connie how you feel.”

Li had made that mistake once, and he had died. No, in this world, feelings and emotions were as necessary as flowers when battles needed to be fought. With a shove, Li had tossed all unnecessary attachments out of her chest. She didn’t need him anymore. She didn’t need anyone anymore… even Eren had gone.

Haunting memories ghosted through ravishing shivers beneath her skin, making the numbing flesh tingle with a pleasant heat that should have never been. Li cleared her throat beneath the shove of cold air, wanting nothing more than to erase the invocation of memories that followed. She could still feel the fleeting touch of the sheets _against her chest after he had roughly spun her onto her stomach—_

_Damn it._ Focus.

“Dorinski ,” at the call of her current leader, Li spurred her horse to a trot, pulling the reins lightly enough to encourage the animal to slow the moment she neared the Captain. Green fabric billowed around his figure, the insignia of the Survey Corp flapping against his spine like the nervous wings of an edgy bird… yet his expression as it surveyed the land was cool, displaying a slight agitation that could not be anything but draconic.

“Sir,” Li responded, more out of respect. With this man, there was no telling what was right or wrong… she wondered if venturing so close was worth the ice and fire.

“Major Freidhelm was your supervising officer,” Li frowned. It didn’t sound like a question. Levi continued, “Naturally, I asked him why I should allow you into my squad. He mentioned your tracking abilities were second to none.”

“I am skilled in tracking, sir.”

He turned those narrow eyes over her, studying her scrupulously. “Tell me where the female type went. If you are correct, you can stay. If you are wrong, or you attempt to mislead me, I will kick your ass off my squad. And you will take your spying little comrade with you.” There was no sign of mercy or jest in his voice, and the command was so sharp, Li nearly felt a touch of hysterical surprise rip through her senses.

  1. He saw through her after all.



Jaw clenching, Li narrowed her eyes directly beneath his, but did nothing to deny him. She had no choice but to comply. Nodding tersely, she turned her eyes over to the field surrounding them and hurried to dismount her horse. The faster she managed to move, the warmer she would get, and the further she would be able to move from under that shrewd bastard. If there had been any reason to doubt Humanity’s Strongest, there wouldn’t be a reason now.

Moving quickly, Li let her eyes take in all the details needed. On this terrain, already so loose and clumpy, being able to distinguish large footprints would be difficult. Before their leave, Li had been permitted the information to review what she could about the female type. She knew that her titan form, although roughly the same size as Eren’s, was lighter, and therefore, she knew how to make an escape without drawing much clues to her.

This would be the case if someone had no experience tracking. It was because of this skill that she had been promoted faster, given a junior squad to look after sooner… that was before the Survey Corp had been virtually disbanded several years ago.

However, theirs was not a faction easily destroyed. She had been among the few that remained loyal—she and her old friends—and while many died and or returned home… _No… don’t think about those things now._ Li knew all too well where that train of thought would lead her.

Carefully, her eyes followed the disturbed earth. Let her mind’s eye fill the clues of the battle that had been, and so witnessed what she needed. _There._ This was where the report stated the Female Type had forced Eren down. Though the days had been enough to make what bone matter and blood from the destroyed body dissipate in steam, there were still remnants of gore and ichor.

A deep, almost black, stain cut through the earth and grass. Li’s nose wrinkled as she approached the massive mark, noting that there was still some matter that had refused to completely give way to heat and steam. _An intense blow… she could have killed him. That bitch._

A muscle in her jaw worked as she continued looking, pushing away the anger that had spiked heat into her fingertips. All too suddenly, the anger faded without warning. Green eyes widening, Li let her feet carry her past the immense stain toward a strange gash on the earth.

Curious, she moved and then her eyes found something that was not a natural manifestation of nature.

It was almost as if… as if something, or rather _someone_ , had drawn something in the dirt…

“Time’s up, Dorinski.” Stiffening, Li turned around and bestowed her best poker face. Brushing away swinging strands of hair from her face, she looked up at the face of her commanding officer. He had refused to dismount, and so towered over her. “Where did she go?”

“She headed southwest, sir.” Li motioned with a finger in the direction the trail of tracks led. “It’s almost hard to detect, but the signs are there. She may know how to run without drawing much attention, but she would have had to return to her human form in order to make the tracks disappear. So far, I’m not seeing any kind of sign she would have done that.”

A thick moment of silence passed after Li made her report. Relentlessly, Levi’s gaze bore down over her, just enough to make her stomach squirm. She knew she wasn’t wrong… She knew he knew she wasn’t wrong… And while he gazed at her tightly, nothing in his expression demonstrated a sign of open emotion. It was like looking at a stone statue and seeing nothing but a slate of calm and focus. It was like looking into the eyes of a bored predator…

After an eternity of scrutiny, Levi nodded. “Very well, Dorinski,” said he, “You will continue to aid in tracking. From here on out, you will ride to my left. You see the slightest sign of deviation in the tracks and you will report it to me, understood?”

“Sir,” Li nodded, not sure whether to feel relieved or anxious by his verdict.

“Get back on your horse,” Levi ordered, turning his animal around to face the rest of their squad. “We’ll be riding toward the nearest Outfield Post. We should be there by evening.” With a burst of hooves, he was riding away towards the rest of the team, leaving her to return to her steed alone. Only, Li didn’t move an inch the following moment, instead her eyes trailed back toward the mark on the dirt.

_“She taught me almost everything I knew…”_ _Eren’s voice had been a hushed whisper, mindful of the sleeping despite the shattering moans that had broken through their throats just minutes prior. Li crossed her arms, gripping to her knees as they stared out the window of her room into the moon slicked landscape ahead. “She was never gentle, but her eyes… even with the river bouncing off rays of light… her eyes always shined the best whenever I got a move right.”_

It was almost a squiggle… almost completely dismissible, but the more she stared, the more Li saw… several stalks of broken grass… smaller indentations of hooves and footprints that took off in another direction…

Footprints that shouldn’t have been there.

_A river… So you found her, haven’t you Eren?_

“Sorry, Captain,” green eyes narrowed into hard stones, nails dug into palms harsh enough to pulse hot ire through blood. “But, I found a shortcut.”

 


	18. Empires and Theories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s inspired tracks are: ‘The Winter Soldier’ by Henry Jackman, ‘Providence’ by Brian Tyler, ‘Red Ledger’ by Alan Silvestri, ‘Postcard from 1952’ by Explosions in the Sky (Sasha’s theme), and ‘Close Encounters of the Furred Kind’ by Michael Giacchino
> 
> “Was it worse to bid farewell, than to watch him fall? Was his life worth ten others, ten others  
> killed with merciless gail?   
> We'd learn to paint the sands red...”  
> \- Tides of Man

First light cast the scenery in an almost eerie blue glow. The steady thrum of horse hooves striking the cold earth echoed within chests, heaving with the exertion of hard riding and the pressure of sharp winds slapping against exposed cheeks. Sleet stung against eyes and sharpened locks of hair into needles, making each push forward sting horridly and cause more misery. Yet, this team was focused, their teeth gritted tight and eyes concentrated ahead. The outpost that was looming ever closer on the horizon was not only a destination; it was a safe haven from the oncoming storm.

The leader rose a single arm, and then set it in a diagonal direction. The synchronization of the team—which consisted of ten riders—was almost perfect as each member tugged the reins of their horses, changing trajectory and effectively evading a patch of dangerous terrain.

Breaths crystallized for a fraction of a second before disappearing into the wind, and despite the hardship, there was only steely resolve.

Within a matter of minutes, the small edifice that consisted of the military outpost was so close, that one could note the way the concrete darkened with slapping frozen rain, beating against windows with static screams. Shadows passed behind the windows, bearing the signs of on-duty officers within the station. A barn stood just several yards behind the main building; a great place to harbor their horses in this foul weather. In the distance, the roar of thunder was almost muffled, but boomed with enough force that made some sigh in relief that the worst of the oncoming storm was avoided.

A single raise of their leader’s hand encouraged the small company to slow their horses to a trot, and then finally a complete stop by the barn. The smell of horse manure mingled with the scent of ice and damp earth, faint yet sharp. No one stopped to comment. Swiftly, the group unhorsed and left their beasts seemingly without care, yet the animals moved with efficiency toward the barn—the barn door swinging open with each push of the wind.

Boots sloshed through mud and faintly gathered snow, stopping when the leader lifted a hand and gave a loud series of pounding knocks against the wooden door.

The wait was not long and despite exhaustion, the team’s focus sharpened as a shadow behind the nearest window appeared and moved behind the entryway.

With a squeak, the door opened and revealed a short, young looking officer with spiky brown hair and surprised gray eyes. “What the—what, who are you?” He asked, scowling and visibly shivering at the cold draft leaking into the building.

“Special service,” The leader announced, his tone was cheery. The rest of the team expressed no emotion, too concentrated on what needed to be done. “I know it’s rather early, but my team needs shelter from the storm and we’d be most obliged if you let us in.”

“Hate to break it to you,” the officer sighed, not opening the door any further, “but this is a classified location and we have nothing on the log for a special service coming in today. So, unless you’ve got clearance under those heavy cloaks then you have to go elsewhere.”

“Clearance,” their leader parroted with a hint of a good-natured chuckle. “Of course you need clearance,” he continued, pulling an arm from beneath the heavy-duty cloak, exposing a short-barrel handgun. The officer gave a start, eyes widening and staring at the compartment at the base of the gun with a hook that looked similar to the works of regular 3D maneuver gear. His mouth parted in question, eyes filled with alarm before the gun was aimed directly against his forehead.

With a smile, the leader focused hard amber eyes on the shocked officer in front of them. Voice taking an abrupt chill, worse than the weather around them, he said, “Here’s our clearance.”

The explosive sound that followed made ears ring painfully, and the following splatter of blood and brain matter slapped over the door. With a thud, the body of the officer fell backwards, the door swinging open with a slam against the wall as the team pushed through with precise and swift movements.

The shouts and screams that followed were easily overwhelmed by a series of shots and gunfire. It took five minutes total to dispose of all ten officers in the one-story building. The leader moved in with steady and leisurely steps through the hallway leading to the communications room. Like the front door, it was also stained with gore and gunpowder—only partly opened and still swinging after a body was slammed against it.

Carefully, he stepped over the dying officer clutching to his bleeding chest, paying no heed to the whimpers and hitched sobs of pain. It would fade eventually.

Two other team members were already standing by the large wooden desk, looking over documents and opening cabinets for the information needed to complete this part of their mission.

“Anything?” The leader asked, tugging his gun within its holster at his thigh.

“I found something, sir,” one of the assassins said, turning around and shrugging off a dark colored hood. The feminine face was stained with a long streak of blood on one cheek, yet it didn’t seem to deter her. “Take a look at this.”

The document was quickly passed to the leader as he approached the shorter woman, nodding in acknowledgement before dark eyes scanned the paper’s surface. For a moment there was silence until his eyes flashed up to meet hers, “Has this been sent out?”

“We’ll investigate immediately,” she replied. “It should not take long.”

“Sir,” the other assassin spoke up, turning toward the two and lifting a packet of information labeled with dark red print ‘ _classified.’_ “I think this could be it.”

“Fera,” the leader spoke and the woman straightened. “Call the rest of the team in. Make sure there are no survivors.” She gave him a nod before gliding around the desk and out the door, footsteps almost completely silent.

The two others approached the desk, hands exchanging the information. Eyes passed careful looks, speaking without words, before threads were being tugged and the file opened. The first page held a long fact sheet of logistics and dates important enough to be privy only to high-class officers.

“Is this it?” The assassin asked, eyes tight with anticipation.

“It would seem so,” The taller man mused. “Continue to search for more information. Even the slightest mention of this data in another document must be taken. Understood?”

“Sir,” the assassin nodded before turning and resuming his search. Just as he turned away, Fera returned, cheek cleaned of gore and backed by the rest of the company.

“No survivors,” Fera announced.

Their leader nodded, looking away from the packet and shutting it closed. “Excellent work,” he commended. “Alphonse, Deidre, Mikael; relieve the corpses of their uniforms. Bury the dead. Fera, Tuvia, Mida; clean up the mess and take watch, our guests should be arriving late this evening. We want to keep them comfortable and oblivious. Shiro and Yuruma, I want you focused on finding any useful information with Malcolm, understood?”

The group chorused a single, “Sir!” With a satisfied nod, their leader tugged the classified packet within the pack resting against his spine.

“I expect a full report by tonight,” He announced as he walked around the desk and moved toward the exit. They parted for him, and followed behind him in route to their assigned duties.

“Sir,” Fera spoke as the group spread out within the building, bodies being gathered and tugged out of sight. “Will you not be staying? This storm… I fear it may endanger you on your mission.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied, turning a grateful smile to the dark haired woman. “I will be back later tonight after I hand over the information at the rendezvous point. Meanwhile, I want you to find any proof, evidence, anything at all about that transmission letter. If what was on there was true, then I am closer to my objective than I expected, and therefore much closer to completing my mission.”

“The date on that sighting was two days ago…” Fera pointed out, “the Female Type will be long gone by now… and in this weather, tracking her down will be difficult. Especially if she reverted back to human.”

“I have no worries about her reverting,” He stated, lifting his hands to tighten the fabric of his cloak around his neck. At Fera’s confused frown, his smile broadened and the sight was almost terrifying. “After what’s been done to her, it would take ripping her directly from the Titan host for her to return to human form, and even that is unlikely.”

Fera’s face hardened with realization before she nodded, looking both disgusted and ashamed. The emotions didn’t last long before she faced him with a resolved expression, “Are you certain she will lead you to our objective?”

His lips twitched as if amused, yet his gaze remained completely emotionless. It was at that point that Fera allowed herself to look into her leader’s face, taking in the youthful swell of his cheeks, the fall of dark hair and curve of a sturdy jaw. Something in her chest fell for a moment—a slight moment of conscience that surprised her momentarily—because in that particular instant she realized just how young this man was. _He’s just a kid…_

In a blink, the moment was gone, and before her stood the man she took orders from. Gone was the small human second, replaced by the cold reality of objectives and orders that needed carrying out.

“Trust me on this, Fera,” the leader said before turning away, his smile persistent. “Our objective is searching for her as we speak. I find her, I find him. I’ll see you tonight.”

Fera watched him as his legs took long, purposeful strides down the hallway and toward the main door. “Yes, sir,” She called out, dull golden eyes fixed on the flat green of his cloak.

Then he turned back to throw her a final glance, and when their eyes met she gave him a brief salute.

“Good, luck…Captain Ackerman.”

* * *

Rain was falling in fine sprays of mist that slapped against glass windows and a harsher chill the morning Mikasa went to meet with Commander Erwin. Boots struck the ground at an even pace, conversation at a low drone beneath earshot and while it was a certain change from the almost dead silence the following days from the attack, it did not provide comfort. Mikasa had been going through drills when she received Erwin’s order to meet. Despite the mild relief of having to be excused from the six mile run around the castle (even with the large gaping hole over the dining hall just barely covered, soldiers were still expected to carry on as soldiers do) Mikasa’s stomach churned and writhed with an almost painful anxiety.

For the first time in her life, Mikasa was without the company of Armin, Eren, and even Levi. The realization had struck her with a violent pressure into her lungs when she had woken, alone, on Levi’s bed. Even after going to her room, she could not have escaped the vacancy of her family, and Eren’s letter still clung to the stone floor near her cold bed. How she had managed to gather her wits enough to pick the letter, fold it closed, and place it within a drawer was almost mechanical.

With assertive breaths, the young woman moved toward her closet and set herself on changing out of her uniform. Then there was a point where she had removed her scarf—just for a moment to remove her tank top—and when she reached for it again, the blow of nostalgia and Eren’s last words to her nearly forced Mikasa to lean heavily against the wooden dresser.

The wave of anguish and frustration was nearly debilitating, forcing tears to spring from her eyes even though her expression never shifted from a state of pensiveness. Eyebrows furrowing, Mikasa heaved a breath and felt her fingers grip tight to a wooden shelf, waiting for the wave to pass.

At its worst, she let her mind circle around the feel of the cool wood, the way her hair now tickled her collarbone and grazed the lowest point of her neck, the faint thrumming of her own heartbeat. Finally, it passed, moments later. She was out the door of her room and marching toward the Commander’s office with an overzealous clench of her fists.

Despite the warmth of torches and lit hearths over some of the hallways, there was a frigid bite within the corner over every passageway. Mikasa could feel the way it nibbled at her fingertips, numbed the area around her nose and made each intake of breath through her lips lick against her teeth.

It was in this state of focus that Mikasa turned into the Hallway that lead directly to Erwin’s office when she nearly barrelled into a duo of Military Policemen.

“Oi, watch where you’re going,” the words were thrown like the bark of a dog. Mikasa glanced up, meeting the gazes of the sour looking policemen and she instantly recognized the face of Major Harke. She had not met the woman face-to-face before, but had seen her around enough to put the name and countenance together. She was a severe looking woman with yellow, cat-like eyes and dark brown hair lifted into a bun so tight it looked painful. At Harke’s side stood a taller man with gray hair and a young face, with eyes that looked Mikasa over with a sly edge and predatory stare.

“Excuse me,” Mikasa stated without apology. “You’re in my way.”

“Are we, _Senior Cadet_?” Harke asked with an almost offended tone when her eyes flicked down to the tags on Mikasa’s jacket, lips curling over her teeth in a half-snarl. “That better not be the way you address superiors.”

“Easy there, Trika,” the man chuckled and his narrow eyes slid over Mikasa once more. A shudder worked its way from the base of her spine, yet Mikasa quelled it before it found its way beneath her skin. “You’re in the presence of the Woman worth One Hundred Soldiers. Miss Ackerman, is it? Heinz Russo, at your service.”

“Excuse me,” Mikasa repeated, taking a step to the side in an attempt to pass them. To her surprise, the policeman slid directly in front of her, leaning down to peer closer at her face. He grinned and it was like looking into the hungry gaze of a titan. There was an instinct that drove her to reach for her swords, and the lack of gear attached to her hips made her feel more naked than being caught without clothes.

“Slow down there, Miss,” He chuckled, low and deep. “I’m just curious about that name of yours. Some dark history hangs to that surname, as I’m sure you already know.”

Mikasa’s jaw clenched tight, feeling her attention hone down over his face. Not one to cower, Mikasa met his gaze with a black stare, “What would _you_ know about that?”

Russo’s lips quirked, “I’m always in the market for secrets, and that’s a history ripe with them. You should know, a well-kept secret is worth more than simple currency.”

“I’m not interested,” Mikasa growled through her teeth. “Now, _move_.”

“Is there a problem?” The new voice caught their attention. Russo straightened and turned, and Mikasa’s eyes followed to meet the flat silver gaze of Rico Brzenska. Despite her dead-panned expression, her stance was coiled and tight, prepared for anything.

“Why, Miss Brzenska,” Russo greeted, voice syrupy sweet. “You’re certainly a lovely sight.”

“You aren’t,” Rico countered coldly, silver eyes flashing dangerously behind her spectacles, “Step aside, Lieutenant. Ackerman is late for her meeting.”

“Do greet the Commander for me, won’t you, Rico?” Harke was smirking when Mikasa glanced at her, and when she looked back at the Squad Leader, her expression was cold enough to freeze fire. Mikasa wasted no more time and stepped past, her stride was wide and deliberate as she made her way closer to the short woman. It was a rare happenstance, but Mikasa was truly relieved to see Rico.

Without regarding a final goodbye to the officers, Rico turned in step with Mikasa and the two headed toward the Commander’s door.

“Who the hell was that?” Mikasa asked under her breath as soon as they approached the door, Keiji stood by it and gave them a nod.

“Never mind _him_ ,” Rico replied. “Trust me on that, Ackerman. You’re better off as far away from that sick bastard as possible.”

Mikasa frowned at Rico’s choice words, noting the heated ire broiling beneath her breath with some curiosity. Rico said nothing after she opened the door and allowed the young raven haired woman in.

Erwin was sitting directly behind his desk, blue eyes focused as he stared at documents on his desk. He glanced up as soon as the door closed behind the two women. Rico spoke first, “Senior Cadet Mikasa Ackerman.”

“Thank you, Rico,” Erwin nodded, and it was then that Mikasa noted how exhausted the man looked. Stubble clung to the sides of his jaw and his hair had fallen from its usual slicked back style. She almost didn’t recognize him as she stood just feet away. “If you could have Keiji bring in what I asked…”

Rico nodded, “I shall be no longer than a few minutes.” With a swift salute, Rico turned on her heels and walked out the door. Mikasa swallowed when the door clicked shut, leaving the two alone.

“Sir,” Mikasa spoke, feeling unusually observant and even concerned, “Are you alright? You look like hell.”

A brief smile quirked the Commander’s lips and it was then that Mikasa realized her blunder. Flushing she ducked her chin, “F-forgive me, I didn’t mean to sound so frank—”

“Don’t apologize,” He said, balancing his elbows on the desk and waved her closer. “It’s what’s expected considering your relationship to Levi. I assure you, I am fine—well,” he added after noticing her glance at the chair he sat, no doubt realizing it wasn’t the tall plush seat. “…As fine as one can be on a wheelchair.”

“…You can’t walk…?” Mikasa asked, voice somber. There was a twinge of guilt in her chest, knowing full well that she was alive because of the Commander’s quick thinking. By saving her he was now in a chair, immobilized. Erwin’s smile turned rueful.

“…Not yet,” He said.

Mikasa’s lips tightened and said nothing in response for a long moment, uncertain and incapable of articulating an apologetic phrase. She doubted he would want to hear an apology and she didn’t feel like she could do so well enough, so she didn’t.

“I never thanked you, sir.” She muttered, and when she blinked into his gaze, she saw a flash of confusion. “For saving my life.” It was the closest she could get and Erwin’s gaze softened. It was all that needed to be said, it seemed. She was surprised that her chest was vacant of all else, the twinge having gone not long after she expressed her gratitude. In all honesty, she was glad for it. Having to deal with rampaging emotions was not on her agenda. The moment was stuffy enough as it was. To her relief, Erwin didn’t stall from jumping into business.

“You may be aware why I called you in,” He said, curling his fingers together. “Or at least have some idea as to why.”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

Erwin’s lips pursed for a second, “This is about your promotion, Mikasa.” Dark eyes blinked as she mulled the words over and when she remembered, it felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice into her stomach. Erwin proceeded not long after he witnessed the comprehension in her eyes, “As you may recall, the Capital had sent us instructions to have you sent in order to undergo an evaluation.”

“They want me to go now?” She asked, feeling her stomach begin to writhe. _No, not now. I can’t leave now._

“You were supposed to have left the Monday following the wedding,” Erwin explained. “By all means, they have been expecting you. Yet, considering these circumstances, there was no way you would have been able to go.”

“Sir, I’m not going,” Mikasa stated firmly. “Not now. Especially now.”

“Relax, Mikasa,” Erwin’s blue eyes were assuring and a faint flash of lightning from outside lit the room softly before fading. “I’m not sending you anywhere. Not until we have some control over the situation here. Nevertheless, I don’t doubt that they will be expecting your presence very soon.”

Mikasa bit down on her lower lip, mind racing. “How soon?”

“At this point, I am uncertain whether or not the Capital is aware of Annie Leonhart’s attack on the castle. It’s been a week, so it’s more than likely. Even so, I’ve written a letter to the courts explaining the situation. Hopefully, it’ll buy us some time…” Erwin looked away, blue eyes tracing the edge of a document inches from his hands. When he glanced at her, there was the familiar resolve that made his blue eyes sharpen into stones. “However, due to a complicated situation, I must make a decision now.”

The young woman straightened, worry tightening at the base of her spine and keeping her strung like a bow. Erwin’s eyes tightened and he beckoned her closer with a curl of his digits. Mikasa took several steps closer, thighs nearly touching the wood of his desk. Her heart rate climbed, and she had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from breathing in shallow gasps.

When the Commander spoke, it was low and deliberate. “I believe that Annie’s attack was not unplanned.” A zing of alarm made her gray eyes widen. _What?_

“This is just a theory,” He explained. “Yet, it is crucial you are made aware of what is happening.”

“What are you saying?” Mikasa whispered, feeling her throat constrict. Erwin pulled away, breaking eye contact to drop his hands and place them against the wheels of his chair. With static movements, he managed to maneuver his chair away from his desk and urge her to follow near the sitting space by his desk. Mikasa watched him, stunned, as she saw his arms work at the wheels and push himself closer. It wasn’t until he made a motion with his chin that Mikasa felt her legs pull her toward the nearest seat and slide into a cushion.

“If you remember, several years ago, that I was incarcerated on orders of the Crown.” Mikasa nodded.

“Your name was cleared, as was the Corp,” She agreed. Erwin leaned back against his chair, his eyes falling away from hers to rest against the windows of his office, studying the constant spray of rain against the window. What light came in was shattered by the trace of falling skies.

“You must be aware. The full reason was because I was asking too much, prying too deep. It was during this time that I needed to see and expose, first hand, the complete corruption of our monarchy. Exposing the selfishness and the scum that was the noble class was crucial to helping the people understand why we could not continue living beneath such a tyrant government. Clearing the name of the Corp was not just the reason behind my trial, Mikasa. You know this.”

“Yes,” She replied slowly, unsure where this was going and what it had to do with the current issue.

“It was by revealing this side of our government that the people soon began to demand for change,” Erwin continued, “And if you remember, the name of the Corp was restored not long after my release. Not long after Supreme Commander Darius Zackley took control, and I had hoped he would establish the rightful order we deserved. Yet, he became obsessed with punishing the upper class. He didn’t just publicly humiliate the nobles responsible for the False King’s institution, he tortured and massacred them. All in front of a public that was starving for retribution. The man I had hoped would establish order… caused a harsher reality than anyone would have expected.”

Without warning, he fixed her a strong gaze, his hand reaching out to grip her forearm tight enough to bruise. She nearly ripped her limb away from him, but the hold of their gazes shocked her still. “Mikasa, what I am about to tell you is of extreme secrecy.” Erwin whispered furiously, “You cannot, under any circumstances, repeat what I am about to tell you. Do you understand?”

“Commander…” Mikasa muttered, feeling more than alarmed. Finally, she nodded and let out a breath when he released her. The blue of his eyes was like cobalt as he leaned away once more.

“None of us had been prepared for the campaign Zackley led over the people, and none of us could attempt to stop it. If it hadn’t been for Eren and the events of the Final Conflict, there would be no doubt that humanity would have destroyed itself completely. These past few years have been difficult, and the months we’ve worked on rebuilding were spent on rebuilding what the Supreme Commander desired. Mikasa, you must know that the reason why Historia is not Queen at this moment, is because of Zackley.”

Air tightened against Mikasa’s throat, filling her with dread and confusion. “I don’t understand,” she breathed. “The people demanded for Commander Zackley to be King, right? The public wanted Zackley?”

Erwin’s eyes narrowed, “The public only followed because of fear of Zackley. Any who opposed him would suffer the consequences the noblemen had endured. He had the power… still does. He only rejected the official title of King because he knew that the people would never accept him as a monarch… even so, not even Zackley would dare to actively destroy the only function of government we have. He may still call himself Supreme Commander… yet, he might as well have placed the crown over his head. Parliament has no choice but to be loyal to him…”

A short moment passed as Mikasa registered the information Erwin supplied. “We traded a false monarchy for tyranny,” She muttered.

At this, Erwin nodded and lifted a hand to rub at his temple, “Indeed. Despite Zackley’s control, there were still those who believed that he needed to be stopped. And so, a coup was prepared and staged—”

“—and those responsible were executed, save Nile Dawke who was incarcerated.” Mikasa filled in, feeling anxious. “I know this part.”

Erwin’s jaw tightened, a dark shadow settling over his face, “Nile Dawke was not responsible for the coup, nor why it failed.”

A scowl dragged her brows to furrow, “What do you mean? He was caught. He confessed.”

“He confessed because of the overwhelming evidence against him, and because if he continued to plead innocent, his execution would’ve been inevitable.” Erwin replied and his eyes were heavy with guilt, “No, Mikasa. The real people responsible for staging the coup were myself and Commander Pixis.”

Something inside her went limp with shock. Mikasa stared at the Commander, feeling her jaw slacken for a moment. She waited for several seconds, blinking rapidly when he didn’t retract his statement and the realization that he was telling the truth only made it difficult to even form a coherent question.

Eyes closing shut, Mikasa stuttered, “Wha—How…?”

“We wanted nothing more than to establish peace, a government where the rightful ruler would lead,” Erwin proceeded after Mikasa’s words failed her. He looked much older somehow, now that this information was finally let out into the open, “Attempting to do the same to Zackley as we had done to the noblemen would not work, because he hid very little of his true intentions to the public. Zackley is not the sort of man that can be usurped… he is the kind of man you kill if you want to save thousands.”

“So, you tried to assassinate Zackley?” Mikasa asked, feeling her mouth fill with the words before her brain could formulate them.

“Not I,” Erwin shook his head, blond strands falling over his eyes yet he made no motion to push them away. “The idea was Pixis’, yet I agreed and knew that this would be our chance. The plan was set. Zackley was scheduled to visit the execution of a few noblemen past the ruins of Wall Maria. It was supposed to be staged as an attack by bandits, people who were still loyal to the Fake King. Yet, it failed… and one of the mercenaries got caught. I knew that if this happened, it would be a matter of time before I had policemen slamming my door open and throwing me and everything we’ve worked for to the gallows.

“We could not allow to be exposed. Evidence was created, letters were written to address Commander Nile Dawke as the one responsible for the coup. To protect what we did, I ensured that Nile Dawke would take the fall.”

A faint rumble of thunder pushed through the heavy atmosphere, as though the heavens themselves understood the weight Erwin’s confession had over Mikasa’s shoulders. There was no disgust or negative feeling in her chest, however, and despite the shock and surprise, Mikasa’s mind rushed with comprehension. It made sense. In every way, it made sense… She couldn’t find it in her to disagree with the Commander’s choices, knowing full well that if it had fallen on her and Eren’s life was being threatened, she would do the same.

“So, Commander Nile was tried and found guilty,” Mikasa surmised, until a thought occurred to her. “Commander, why was he not executed? The Supreme Commander has killed people for less.”

Erwin nodded, “And Nile would have been executed, if it hadn’t been for the newspapers. The plan was never to allow Nile to die, just to take the blame. In order to ensure he would not be killed was to expose the coup publicly and have the people know full well that Zackley’s reign could be questioned—even though it was defeated… at least, it _could_ be done—and so the people demanded a trial. Zackley may not be a politician, but he knows full well that execution would lose him what favor he’s gathered. So, a trial was made and Nile eventually was found guilty.”

“Yes, but how could you know that Zackley wouldn’t have executed him anyway, sir?” Mikasa asked, squeezing her knees with cold hands.

At this, Erwin actually smiled. “Because I knew that someone as narcissistic as the Supreme Commander would never allow the public to question his leadership. One act of mercy can do far more than a thousand acts of cruelty. I knew Zackley would be unable to resist this opportunity to effortlessly keep public loyalty. So, mercenaries were executed, yet Nile was imprisoned and kept alive—to showcase an example of Zackley’s steel resolve and compassionate nature.”

Glancing away, Mikasa considered the Aryan Commander’s words, teeth working on the back of her lip. While this information explained so much… there was still a question that was begged to be asked.

“What does this have to do with me, sir?” She asked.

Erwin leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and meet her gaze directly. The blue of his ice was piercing. “Publicly, Nile was indicted. Yet, I know without a shadow of a doubt that Zackley knows exactly who tried to overthrow him. This is why we are stationed here within the confines of what remained of Wall Maria’s borders, Mikasa. Why whatever expeditions we have attempted to send outside the walls have failed again and again. Zackley has made sure that the Survey Corp would be punished for my deeds, in the most logical and political way he could make it without incurring the people’s wrath. The mandate is nothing short of a leash designed to keep us all under his control, Mikasa. Especially now since the Reiss family has been all but completely obliterated. We’ve been able to keep Historia safe from his hands because she knew that taking the throne now would mean going up against him.”

Erwin reached over and grasped one of her hands in his, gazing into her eyes sincerely, “I cannot afford to place any of you within his control, which is why we’ve been bowing our heads to this Mandate. Mikasa, you are one of Humanity’s Strongest. You and Levi both represent the very strength of our humanity, putting you together was a gamble that I had to risk against the Capital. Had they decided to separate you, I don’t know where we would be. Yet, it is not just you who are supremely valuable to me in this time. Historia, Armin—whose mind holds strategic brilliance so unique, I have no doubt he will surpass even me—and Eren… who, until recently, was the very last Titan-shifter.”

Pulling away, Erwin let out a mirthless chuckle, “You can understand why Zackley would want to keep me further under his thumb.”

“So, the evaluation…?” She trailed off, catching up.

“It would mean that Zackley would be able to keep you out of my reach, and he would do so without causing suspicion. I have no doubt that he will attempt to do more. Which is why there is reason to believe that Annie’s attack was planned.”

Mikasa’s mind worked faster. If this was the case… then that meant that Annie had been under the government’s control for months. It meant that… oh no.

Flashes of memories came to her. Of the attack itself. Of the screams and the cries of those unprepared. Of Annie’s titan gaze, wide and piercing before her fist destroyed what joy the day should’ve brought. She remembered hearing reports, how Annie had searched through the rubble, and then disappeared empty handed.

_Could she have been…?_

And then it all made perfect sense.

_They’ve been planning on taking Eren._

Ice fell through her skin, seeping the color of her cheeks into a white pallor and forcing her under a powerful state of internal panic so strong, Mikasa’s hands began to shake. _Oh God, no._

“Mikasa?” Erwin’s voice reached her, steady yet surprised by her extreme reaction. Here it was… Mikasa’s eyes jumped to his and suddenly, she felt the fear choke her. _He has to know. He has to know immediately._

“Eren…” she muttered, struggling to explain her fears without blathering. Erwin scowled.

“What about Eren?”

“Sir,” Mikasa breathed, “Eren’s gone.”

And then, Erwin’s eyes widened and the rumble of thunder that followed could do nothing to deafen the single whisper of horror that fell from the Commander’s lips. “ _What?"_

* * *

It had begun raining sometime during the night. Ice cold drops landing over exposed foreheads and seeping frigid fingers through cloaks and sleeping bags. At first it had been in showers, like a mist blowing through their campground, but soon droplets turned into voluminous buckets of mid-October rain. If the low temperature and the shocking splashes of condensation didn’t wake them up, it was the sound of Levi’s voice snarling at them to get off their asses and make sure the equipment they were bringing wasn’t getting soaked useless.

When Connie’s eyes blinked open, his body was already shooting up off his thin and drenched sleeping bag—dreams fleeing like motes in the wind—and moving quickly to follow the rest of the rousing squad to throw a large tarp over the cart that harbored the spare maneuver gear, food, and provisions. A deep howl pushed through the glen where their camp was set, making the trees around whisper and soon hiss loudly in their ears as they moved back and forth. What fire they had made was now extinguished and they relied on calling each other and announcing any disturbances in the earth to avoid.

“Ditch!!” Jean’s voice rose just ahead of Connie. The short soldier quickly sidestepped, practically sensing the vacant spot beneath his foot as he traveled.

“Connie, Dorinski,” Levi’s shout was nearly rattling. In the darkness Connie quickly tried to find him, but the lighting was so poor, it was almost impossible to tell if it was the Captain or a trembling bush. “Extend the tarp and get the horses beneath it!”

Almost on cue, a powerful flash of lightning light the entire area clear as day for a split moment, allowing Connie’s eye to take in everything he could—from where the horses were shifting, almost prancing, uneasily by their posts, to the darting figure and sliver of auburn that burned in the direction of the animals. Ramming a grunt through his throat, Connie steeled himself against turning in another direction and followed the instinct that had been urging him to propel toward her for the past few days.

With focus, the short soldier rushed toward the horses and tried to keep his mind on the matter at hand. Going so far as to counting the seconds that passed before another flash of lightning struck and the horse he was trying to move toward the cart gave an indignant whine. With effort they managed to get the animals beneath the tarp, grateful that at least it was near the trees where they could tie it off.

Another flash and suddenly he was looking into a pair of wide, green eyes. It was a split second and just as he had registered whom he had nearly collided into, he felt her shove past him, bumping him harshly with her shoulder. Instinctively, Connie’s hand shot out, searching for a limb to grasp. Instead, he felt Li’s jacket graze his fingertips and she was gone beneath the darkness and torrents of ice rain.

At a loss, Connie had no choice but to keep moving. With a firm set of his shoulders, he clung to the anger sparked by the miserable weather and Captain Levi’s barking orders.

Nearly three hours later—horses contained and provisions secured—the storm finally dwindled into a lazy drizzle. Sleeping had become impossible beneath the chill and breathing turned into white puffs of steam before fading into the air around them. When Connie returned to his sleeping bag, the inside was covered in twigs, branches, and soaked dirt. Biting down on his lips, he grabbed it and shook it almost violently, muttering angrily to himself and ignoring his teammates.

It probably wouldn’t matter trying to go back to sleep now, Connie mused haplessly. Already, he could see easier and the steadily growing light of first light was creeping into dawn.

Footsteps to his side alerted him and when Connie looked Captain Levi was glaring down at him (well, it looked like he was. The team was already used to the Captain’s resting Bitch Face and so didn’t think much of it). “Good work with the horses,” Levi stated.

Connie nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t bother going to sleep,” the Captain said, and Connie could feel the stones in his stomach settle harshly. _I hate it when I’m right._ “The Outpost is only about a few hours away. When we arrive, we’ll be able to rest.”

The thought of sleeping indoors nearly boosted Connie’s spirits on the spot. Straightening, Connie met his leader’s eyes face to face (somewhat pleased to note he could finally meet the man’s gaze without needing to glance upwards), “How long will we be staying there?”

“If things go according to plan,” Levi said as he turned to look over the rest of the camp. It was then the buzz cut realized that their conversation had sparked the attention of everyone else. “Then we should be there for a couple of days. While we are resting, you are all required to write a report to the Commander, the officers there will be responsible for sending that information back to the castle.”

“Is that all we’ll be doing there?” Jean questioned, stretching his back and grimacing when his spine let out a series of loud pops.

“My belief is that they have more detailed maps of the land. If the directions of the tracks are to be trusted,” Connie didn’t miss the side-glance the Captain shot to Li, who was kneeling by a tree and rubbing a pale hand against a spot below her collarbone. Her green eyes narrowed in response and then Levi glanced away. “Then this location should have had a sighting of the Female Type.”

“Sir, I have a question,” Alex piped up, looking nervous when the short man gave him his attention. “In our map, there is a village not too far from this outpost, if there was Titan activity, certainly this location would be sending out panicked reports?”

“For the sake of our mission, let’s hope not,” Levi said, scowl deepening. “Which is another aspect of our job. Any and all reports about the Female Type need to be intercepted in some manner, and this is where we will need to split up.”

“What?!” the chorus was shocked and the soldiers pushed their way closer to Levi. Armin’s expression was almost wild with indignant disbelief, and he was the first to protest. When Connie glanced over, Li’s expression was almost pensive, not at all outraged. He frowned for a moment before watching Armin all but stomp his way toward Captain Levi.

“Why weren’t we informed of this earlier?” the Lance Corporal exclaimed.

Levi’s expression hardened as he met Armin’s piercing gaze, “Because it didn’t concern you then. Erwin ordered our company to make sure the Female Type is brought in, and further explicitly ordered that if we could maintain this incident out of public knowledge, then we should do anything we can to ensure this is the case.”

“What’s to say Annie isn’t hiding?” Jean intervened before Armin could say anymore. “We’re the Survey Corp, any and all information about this sort of thing usually goes through us first, then the Garrison. But the fact is, no one knew about her until we were attacked.”

“There is too much we don’t know,” Levi replied. “Why Annie attacked, why we didn’t know about her even being alive before she ripped us new assholes. _If_ she’s hiding then that’s better news for us, because bringing her back in would mean less chance of exposure. Yet, at this point, we don’t know how many villages have seen her, how many sightings have been made. We don’t even know if she’s alone or if she’s following orders. For all we know, we could be having a mass panic in our hands at this very moment. This is what Erwin needs to know. We gather intel, we bring her back in, that’s our job.

“Splitting the team will be the only way we can cover bases,” the Captain continued, turning a critical gaze over every face. “The good news is that this outpost should have a coop of carrier birds, so exchanging information will not be a problem while we’ve been split up.”

“Who’ll be staying behind then?” Connie asked after Levi concluded.

The short man narrowed dark eyes at all over them, calculating. “That’s not something you should concern yourselves with just yet. Let’s just make it to the fucking outpost and work our way from there. Understood?”

“Understood,” the team chorused back. Connie stepped away to prepare their supplies for the journey ahead, and when he glanced back to see Armin, the blond had a fierce glare on his face. With a sigh, Connie looked away, but not before catching a curious expression over Li’s face as she turned to her things. It was just the slightest expression and Connie wasn’t convinced he really saw it, but for a second there it looked like she was smiling.

* * *

_“Jean…” Sasha whispered beneath the cradle of her beloved’s jaw and collar bone. The darkness of her room gave her all the courage to even think these words, and if not for the steady breathing of the man sleeping beneath her palms she probably wouldn’t have felt the surge of bravery even with all the shadows in the world. “I wish I could go with you.”_

The sentiment strengthened with every passing second, whirling and building before threatening to burst within Sasha’s chest. It all culminated into a final pressure that lodged stones in her throat and made her eyes feel heavy with unshed tears… the moment Jean was throwing his leg over the hide of his horse before settling upon the saddle, golden eyes staring forward with sober certainty.

Their goodbyes were not as sentimental as her heart insisted they should have been. He had been mindful of her leg, and so urged her not to follow him downstairs to the stables. Instead, and at her persistent urging, Jean had been kind enough to wheel her toward a window where she would be able to see the stables and the main gates. There, he had looked down to her face, eyes flashing with uncertainty and profound reluctance to leave her there.

 _“Just go on, you idiot,”_ Sasha had huffed, forcing a smile that threatened to shatter her teeth and leave her weeping. _“It won’t be that long anyway.”_

Jean had nodded, lips curling into a smile that he reserved just for her, the kind that made her warm, the kind that said, _“That’s my girl.”_ So he bent down and pressed his mouth against hers, fingers curling around her neck and jaw line to tilt her at an angle that was seamless for them both. Sasha melted beneath his lips and affection. Tears fell from the corner of her eyes, and when he pulled away his thumbs were brushing them away and he was grinning down at her like an idiot.

 _“I’ll see you soon, Braus. You get back on your feet soon, alright?”_ And by the time she had returned a watery smile, Jean peeled his hands away from her skin and was walking off with wide and steady strides. When Jean appeared beneath her sight, way down on the ground and approaching with a horse, the injured soldier wanted to cram her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out. Watching him disappear without so much as a glance toward the window was almost as painful as having to kiss him goodbye… perhaps that was why Mikasa hadn’t bothered watching Levi lead the team out… perhaps the pain was just as bad for the woman worth one hundred soldiers.

That had been three days ago, and Sasha couldn’t help but grimace every time she woke in the mornings to grit in her eyes and a stuffy ache in her head. Saturday morning came and when she had expected to be left alone like she had been for these past few days, the knock at her door made her nearly jolt with surprise and an idiotic hope that Jean had returned.

Instead, Fitz’s voice greeted her from behind her door, “Oi, Sasha! I brought you breakfast!”

Heart tumbling back down to rest behind her rib cage, Sasha sighed and pulled herself toward her wheelchair. With a last rub to her eyes, she pulled the door open to find Fitz beaming at her like he was the sun himself, carrying a tray on his good arm, filled to the brim with the delightful smell of many breakfast dishes.

“You brought the kitchen!” Sasha exclaimed, feeling some invigoration leak back into her stomach, lifting her spirits and sparking her mouth to water. Fitz’s smile broadened, if possible, and he sauntered into her room when Sasha pushed herself out of his way. Without much need for direction, the wild haired brunet placed the tray down over her desk before turning toward her with a mischievous gleam in his eye and Sasha couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude to this boy who was doing so much even after everything had gone so wrong.

“I spared no expense,” Fitz began, puffing his chest out and flicking back his hair with a flourish. “I even fought off a few other greedy soldiers, but I know nothing but the grandest spread will be good enough for the Stomach of the Corp.”

“Is that what they call me these days?” Sasha snorted, feeling her own lips pull back into an amused grin.

“Among other things,” Fitz mumbled not-so-quietly, teasing. “Go on, go on, and eat!”

Snatching up at the utensils beneath a plate of— _holy hell, is this **bacon**?_ —Sasha didn’t hold back at all, feeling her chest fill when she all but swallowed down two fried eggs and a piece of toast. Fitz followed her enthusiasm and picked out a plate for himself, and the two broke bread and fasts with shared culinary jubilee. Several minutes and appreciative hums of delight later, the tray was covered in empty plates and the slight leftovers of food.

“You’re the best, Fitz,” Sasha sighed, patting her filled belly and setting down a dirtied plate over the piles of vacant dishes. Like a storm, the two had taken to pushing food into their mouths and with equally shared satisfaction, Fitz made a bowing motion with a spin of his wrist.

“You haven’t been yourself these past few days,” He said after a moment of comfortable silence. Sasha perked up at his words. In turn, he gave her a soft smile, “It was the least I could do… we’re friends, right?”

At this, Sasha nodded vigorously, “Yes, Fitz. Thank you, really.”

He grinned at her again before getting a napkin and wiping his chin, “Alright, duty calls. I’ve indulged you long enough.”

The auburn haired woman let out a groan of disappointment, “Come on, at least stay to rub my feet!”

“Oi, I’m not your friggin servant,” Fitz drawled, rolling his eyes. “I only did this because there’s been complaints of wailing at night.”

Sasha tossed a pillow at his head, wrinkling her nose at him when he ducked and pointing a finger at him with an accusation, “No decorum!”

The young adult laughed in response, “I was just kidding.” When she glared at him, he beamed in return. “Hey, how’s about after I finish my drills with what’s left of my squad, I give you a walk around the castle. I promise to avoid the dining hall.”

Sasha pursed her lips, considering his proposal, recalling how her room had felt like a prison the past few days she had been ordered bed rest. A thought occurred to her then and when she looked up she was smiling, “I still haven’t been able to visit Historia…”

Fitz’s bright expression sobered, but not in a disappointed light, more like a respectable understanding. He nodded again, “I can ask where she’s being cared for, then we can pay her a visit.”

“You’re awesome, Fitz,” Sasha said, and when he reached down to press a palm over her shoulder she intercepted with a reaching hand of her own and caught his fingers with a gentle squeeze. The wild haired cadet beamed at her before taking a step back.

“I’ll see you soon.” The soldier said, ruffling her hair as soon as she let go.

The meal left her feeling better than she had the past few days, and while there was some protest from her stomach for filling it so thoroughly, there was an honest contentment brewing in her chest. Pushing herself up, Sasha tested out her leg. The first little pressure of weight over her foot didn’t cause any pain but no sooner did she fully rest her weight over it, her knee gave a sharp twinge of protest. Gasping out, Sasha immediately recoiled, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out.

Glancing up, she watched her door and waited, hoping the squeak of pain that erupted before she could stop it was unheard. Instead of a nurse slamming the door open like yesterday and the immediate reprimands that had followed, Sasha’s door remained closed and after a moment, she exhaled.

Limping, the country girl uttered a few curses beneath her breath as she settled in her wheelchair. _“You’ll only make it that much harder to heal, Cadet Braus!”_ The nurse had exclaimed yesterday, and Sasha had had to hold back from visibly rolling her eyes, making a mental note to avoid screaming in agony. While it was obvious that Sasha had to take care of her injured limb, she wanted nothing more than to get on a horse and follow the path Jean and the squad had taken days prior.

It was Jean’s parting words that urged her to test the pressure of her knee, and while it wasn’t perfect, there was a tiny amount of improvement. She had been unable to fully place her foot down yesterday. Today, she managed that much.

With a grunt, Sasha pulled her chair toward the opposite side of her room, stopping by the pull-up bar Jean had helped install over her closet door before he had gone. _If I can’t improve below, I’ll build strength above._

Determined, Sasha gave a short huff before lifting herself up slowly from the chair. Once her weight was easily placed over her good leg, she reached up and gripped the cool metal bar. She didn’t move for a moment, letting her fingers grasp again and again over the cool surface before finally resting over the rubber grips that would protect her palms from ripping open.

Sasha inhaled deeply before pulling herself up, feeling the pain of bruises and aches of exhaustion shoot up before fading to the heat of her muscles. She exhaled as she moved up, inhaling deeply as she let gravity pull her down. Completing the single rep made her fingers feel tingly, her back muscles and biceps feeling warm with exertion. Sasha smiled to herself when she felt no pain in her knee and she continued until she completed ten… fifteen… twenty… twenty five reps of pull ups.

She was gasping by the time she settled back on the ground, sweat dripping and glistening over her skin. The completion made her feel stronger despite the pain. After a small period of rest, Sasha twisted her arms to grip the bar in another position and completed another twenty five, gritting her teeth on the last few when her muscles threatened to give.

She remembered being able to swing and react with strength and agility, and the amount of force she had exerted during the days fighting Titans and humans was more than what she was doing now. Yet, in this moment of exercise, Sasha could feel that she had become weaker since those days and she found herself scowling at her own laziness.

_Would I even be injured if I hadn’t allowed myself to slack off?_

She sighed, body pulsing with rushing blood and when she moved to sit back down, it was with a heavy heart. Now, more than ever, Sasha missed her team in the lonely space of her room. With almost mechanical motions, the auburn haired woman pushed her chair to gather her wash things.

The trip to the communal showers was uneventful. Ignoring the curious stares of moving officers was easy considering how little the glances were. Too many people were still working on rebuilding, on cleaning up, on making sure such an attack didn’t happen again. When she arrived to the showers, she greeted the officer in charge of the logs—signed her name, exchanged simple pleasantries and denial of help—and made her way inside.

A few other women were there and Sasha had half expected them to be talking about one thing or another. Instead, it was deadly silent, save the sound of the showers turning on and off. Steam kissed and draped over Sasha’s exposed skin, trying not to mind the quiet and the presence of the other women. She wished they would talk, say something—really, anything—but none of them did.

At one point, one of them looked up at her and Sasha recognized her as Celia. It was almost embarrassing. Who didn’t know of the ridiculous love affair between Celia’s match Dieter and the woman Margo? It was almost a story off one of the ridiculous love novels Riza wouldn’t shut up abou—

A sharp breath was sucked in through Sasha’s lips and the grief that snuck up on her only lasted several moments, but it was almost enough to completely yank all the air from Sasha’s lungs and she was grateful to already be sitting down.

“Sasha, right?” She heard and when she looked back up from where her gaze had landed on her lap, Celia was standing a couple of feet away.

“Hello,” Sasha greeted meekly.

Celia nodded, “Hi. I, um…” she trailed off, looking unsure. “Do you need help?”

“I—uh, no. I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Celia asked again and Sasha hesitated in shaking her head. _Why not, right?_

“Well, I guess… I could use some help with washing…” She supplied and Sasha could feel some relief when the other woman’s face brightened.

“Let’s get you cleaned up then,” Celia said, smiling. She stepped behind Sasha’s chair and pulled her toward the edge of the showers, and when Sasha stood up, she was right there to offer her something to lean on. It was not weird, undressing. But the tension and silence in the showers made it so and when the light haired soldier made to help Sasha shrug off her shirt, Sasha nearly pushed her away.

“It’s okay…” Sasha said after Celia blinked at her with surprise. “I can handle this part…”

In the shower, and with the aid of a stool, Sasha sat while Celia filled buckets with warm water. Soap lathered on a washcloth, the two women worked in relative silence, Sasha scrubbing at her scalp with her fingers while Celia rubbed the cloth on her back and thighs.

“Thanks,” Sasha murmured after Celia dumped another bucket of warm water over Sasha’s skin. Celia shook her head, her smile soft.

“Does it hurt much?” She asked as she moved to scrub Sasha’s foot, her injured knee freed from the bandages and sporting a tale-telling bruise. Sasha shrugged slightly, rubbing soap over her arms.

“It’s not bad…” Sasha sighed, dropping a hand slick with suds over the swelling joint. The pain wasn’t terrible when she touched it and Sasha settled in carefully rubbing the bruise with her thumb.

“You’re planning on going after them, aren’t you?”

Sasha gave a start, looking away from her leg to the woman in front of her. Celia’s sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, showcasing a large cut—scabbed—from her wrist to her elbow. The wound circled her arm, reddened at the edge, parts of it thickening into a deeper gash. “A piece of rubble fell over me and two other soldiers,” Celia provided after Sasha looked into the woman’s blue eyes. “We were trapped and the only way to get out of it was sticking my arm through the opening… piece of metal. Nothing big, but it hurt like a bitch.”

“Does it still hurt?” Sasha asked.

Celia nodded, “Yeah, but it’s nothing,” and then she paused from scrubbing the washcloth over Sasha’s ankle. “You still haven’t answered the question.”

Sasha bit her lip, thumb stopping from touching the bruise of her knee. “…I am.”

Celia grinned at her, a pleasant little gap between her two front teeth. “Good,” she said and Sasha blinked in surprise. “Your team isn’t complete without you.”

“How do you…?” Sasha trailed off, stunned.

“You and Kirschstein are practically heroes, Sasha.” The soldier admitted, paused to lean back against steamy tile to brush back a loose strand of light hair. “Well,” she chuckled, “Maybe heroes is a bit much. You two went against the mandate. It’s a pretty big deal.”

“But we didn’t do anything,” Sasha protested. “We just signed the Engagement document. Not unlike other people.”

“Yeah,” Celia agreed, reaching for a warm bucket and dousing the heated liquid over Sasha’s shin. “But you could’ve given in to the pressure of signing the survey… it’s a victory. A small one. And even though there’s a lot of shit going on…” she looked up, fixing Sasha a determined gaze. “Even the smallest victories still give us hope.”

Celia’s words followed her long after Sasha concluded her shower and returned to her room. After calming down the nurse assigned to her care about leaving without a word (the poor woman nearly had been nearly frantic by the time Sasha returned), Sasha escaped to her bed—feeling strangely drained even after only doing so little in the day. It was strange to consider Celia’s words, to think that she and Jean had done much to give hope to others. Was hope really so easily inspired by simple acts of love viewed as acts of defiance?

A knock at her door stopped Sasha from drifting into an uneasy sleep. When she lifted herself drowsily from her cot, the knob was already turning softly. Spiky brown hair and pale amber eyes appeared behind the door as it opened, followed by a sheepish grin. “Hey,” Fitz greeted. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“Nah,” Sasha shook her head, tossing her worries aside for the moment. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Fitz announced, pushing through the door and smiling widely at her. “As promised, I did what I could to find information about Historia and where she is resting, and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy getting it.” As he spoke he moved toward her wheelchair, pulling it out from its place against her wall and spinning it in her direction with his good arm. “I had to do some serious recon work to get that bit of information, and when I asked if visitors were allowed, turns out they aren’t.”

Sasha pouted, face falling after looking at him with growing excitement. “Okay, so we can’t visit her.”

“Ah, ah,” Fitz waved a finger, looking absolutely pleased with himself. “I never said we can’t visit her.”

Sasha frowned, “But, you said…”

“I said visitors,” he grinned. “Friends on the other hand…”

Sasha perked up, pushing herself off her cot to sit on the wheelchair, “So we can visit her?”

“Of course we can,” Fitz said before winking mischievously, wheeling the girl out the room, “If we stay out of sight that is.”

At this Sasha hesitated, gripping to the handles of her chair and feeling a dip in her stomach, “Hold on, we’re going to _sneak_ inside?” She didn’t need to turn to see Fitz nodding enthusiastically.

“Just what the doctor ordered, too,” He said and the excitement was so palpable, she was glad she wasn’t seeing his face. “It’s about damn time something exciting happened. Well, like a good kind of exciting, because last week was bullshit.”

Still, Sasha found herself smiling regardless of the nervousness in her belly. But in a sense, their impromptu reconnaissance mission did fill her with a feeling she didn’t think she would experience since the days before the Survey Corp was cleared of all crimes against the False Crown. Sasha found herself looking forward to their little escapade.

“So, where is she?” Sasha asked, lowering her voice.

“She’s in a room near the intensive care section of the medical wing,” Fitz replied, leaning down to whisper it in her ear. They both knew that whispering was unnecessary, considering how no one was around and those that passed them by in the hallway didn’t really pay them much attention. In spite of all that, Sasha could feel the nervousness give to the excitement pushing a bounce to her friend’s step and whispering only made their destination seem all the more ‘dangerous’. It was silly, no doubt about that, but Sasha needed silly. She thanked Fitz for that.

“How will we get passed the guards?” Sasha asked, no doubt certain that if visitors were forbidden, that someone would be keeping an eye on her.

“That, future missus Kirschstein,” Fitz replied, wheeling her down a corner. “You can leave that up to me.”

Sasha raised a brow at him, turning her head to peer up at him, yet Fitz only lifted a finger to his lips and smirked. She sighed and shook her head, settling in her chair and letting her fingers play with a frayed stitch in her skirt. A few minutes of passing by soldiers and staff members, turning up and down corners, they soon arrived toward the staircase that lead to the intensive care section.

“Fitz,” Sasha said, furrowing her brow worriedly. “I still can’t walk.”

Fitz said nothing before he slowly parked her by the side of the staircase, squeezing her shoulder before turning and disappearing in the opposite direction. Sasha balked, turned this way and that to try to see where he went before her hands found the wheels and spun herself in the direction he left, but he had gone. Scowling, Sasha tried not to look incriminating, fidgeting in her seat while nurses and medical officers walked down the staircase, focused on pads and files.

 _Where the hell did he go?_ She thought to herself, teeth gnawing on her lower lip after a minute of waiting by herself. Suddenly, he appeared around the corner, moving at a brisk walk and waving at her to get up. In his arms, Sasha noted, that he held under his good arm what looked like crutches. When he was just feet away, he gave her a really exasperated look and it was all she needed to push herself off the chair.

“Where did you get those?” She hissed, wobbling when her good leg shook, more out of nerves than lack of balance.

“Borrowed ‘em,” He answered, sliding the crutches under her armpits and nearly shoving her toward the flight of steps. “Come on,” he urged when she stumbled. “I bought us some time, but if we don’t clear this staircase, we’ll get caught.”

Sasha nodded, and with his help, she managed to quickly find a rhythm (awkward as it was) and climbed up the stairs. Sasha heaved a great sigh when they reached the top, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone was following them, but Fitz was leaning into her ear before she could note anything unusual. “Okay, her room is number fifteen,” he pointed down the hallway.

As they approached, Fitz stopped her right before they entered the lobby, lifting a finger to his lips. He peeked around a couple of times before sliding around toward her and frowned as he looked her up and down. At his abrupt scrutiny, Sasha squirmed, “What?”

“Hide.” He said and suddenly he was pushing her against the wall and sliding a tapestry over her body before she could even yelp in surprise. “Don’t move until I get them out of here, okay?”

And with that he was walking off and leaving Sasha to breath in the musk of old cloth and iron. It didn’t take long to hear him approach the desk.

“What can I do for you?” Another voice asked, more perplexed than interested in helping.

“Lieutenant Alfons sent me,” Fitz spoke quickly, his voice taking an urgent tone, “he needs immediate assistance down by the stables. Something about the 3DMG drill going horribly wrong, some soldiers kicked by some horses, one of them got struck in the head.”

He didn’t even finish before footsteps were rushing toward the staircase. Sasha held as still as she could as they walked past, “We’ll need someone to man the desk…” Someone was saying over their shoulder.

“Would you quit wasting time?” Fitz exclaimed, “Someone is seriously injured! I’ll watch the damn desk for you, goddamn!”

“Right, thanks.” The first voice said and footsteps hurried down the stairs. Before they disappeared from within earshot, the tapestry hiding Sasha out of sight was whipped off her making her squeak in surprise. Fitz grinned at her when she realized it was him.

“Dammit, don’t scare me!” She chided, smacking his arm. Fitz shrugged before helping her out of her hiding space.

“Go on, I’ll keep watch,” he said.

“That was quite the tale, did you come up with it on the spot?” Sasha asked as she hobbled her way down the hall. Fitz snickered.

“Nope, one hundred percent true.” He said, as he walked over and snatched a key from behind the desk. Sasha blinked at him, incredulous. “I’m serious!” He insisted, “Took me a while, but I managed to disable a few little things in some of the canisters.”

Sasha’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you actually _caused_ all that??”

Fitz waved her off as they walked down the hall, “They’ll be fine. Roughly some of them will be really bruised and I do feel awfully bad about that one guy who got kicked in the head. But to be fair, Corporal Lucas is a dick and had it coming. In any case, I bought you some time, you should be grateful.”

“Not I’m ungrateful, or anything,” Sasha sighed, “But, did you have to hurt people to help me out?”

Fitz gave her a curious expression, amber eyes peering at her with interest, “Sasha, don’t worry. I promise, it’s not as bad as I made it seem. I made you a promise, didn’t I? Besides, I was bored anyway.”

Sasha didn’t bother saying much else, feeling more impressed than anything that Fitz managed to pull off quite the heist—and with just one arm too. She said nothing as he pressed the key to Historia’s room into the lock and with a quick jerk of his wrist, opened the door.

The room inside was dimly lit by a small set of sconces above Historia’s bed and when Sasha peered in, she found the blonde woman, sleeping within the covers. “Historia,” the woman breathed hobbling in quickly to reach the girl’s side.

Fitz stayed by the front of the door, watching with wide eyes as Sasha all but collapsed into a chair that was set by the bed. Urgently, Sasha dug within the covers and found the young woman’s hand before cradling it between her palms.

It had been a full week since the attack, a full week of separations and loss. Seeing Historia, _alive_ and breathing, made her chest expand with newfound breath. She could feel that breath burn the edges of her eyes and transform into a sob. Of all the words Sasha could come up with for the blonde woman’s appearance, it was ‘clean.’

Her skin was wiped of all dust, blood, marring. Even her hair looked as though it had been washed and cared for these past few days and while the girl’s eyes remained closed, she looked almost… healthy.

This both relieved and confused Sasha. Last she had heard, Historia was inches from death, clinging to life with the aid of the machines pumping bagfuls of IV liquid and monitoring her heart rate. The machines weren’t anything fancy like the weapons Sasha had seen in her years, but achieved a sort of look of sophistication that made her mind work. They must be really helpful machines to bring the girl to such a picture of health.

“Sasha?” she heard and when she glanced up, Fitz was frowning. “How is she?”

“She’s alive, Fitz,” Sasha replied, fingers clenching on Historia’s soft and limp hand. “She’s alive.”

“…And healthy.” Fitz noted, and Sasha nearly frowned at him.

“You say like that’s a bad thing,” She scoffed. Instead of leaving, the cadet through a glance out the door before letting the door slide shut. He paused, locking the door as an after thought before taking a few steps closer, his eyes calculating critically over Historia’s sleeping frame.

“Alex told me she suffered from a very severe wound,” Fitz explained after Sasha gave him an inquisitive look. “The kind that isn’t easy to heal from…”

“So what?” Sasha shook her head, “You don’t know her like I do. Historia is a strong girl, resilient. She’s taken on worse and survived.”

Fitz looked away from Historia to gaze into Sasha’s upset face, his eyes softened and he looked genuinely sheepish, “Sorry, Sasha. You’re right. I’m glad she’s alright.”

Sasha nodded, turning to smile at the sleeping girl. Carefully, she lifted a hand to brush a strand of blonde hair from the girl’s face. Yet despite her initial joy of seeing her friend, Fitz’s words only confirmed the initial gut feeling that made her hesitate. Something wasn’t quite right… yet not matter how hard Sasha looked over the young former heiress’ face, she couldn’t place it.

“We don’t have much time,” Fitz said after a long moment of silence. “You’ll need to say what you came to say quickly. I’m sorry.”

Sasha nodded and let out a slow sigh, mind racing with information and nothing she could say. It was sort of embarrassing but in the time it took them to get here, Sasha hadn’t thought of anything to say once she saw her friend. Finally, she decided she couldn’t do it with the brunet soldier hovering over her shoulder. “Can you give us a moment?”

She heard him shift before he took a parting step, “Sure. I’ll be outside—”

His words cut off when a rattling on the door caught them by surprise. “Shit,” He swore and Sasha was tucking Historia’s hand back under the bed and launching off the chair.

“What do we do?” She whispered back, eyes frantically looking around the room.

“The closet,” Fitz said and without another word, the two were nearly leaping around the bed (Fitz snatching up Sasha’s crutches as she limped/ran toward their own hiding place. They had just managed to throw themselves inside the cramped closet and slid the door shut as the door to Historia’s room slid open. Sasha bit down on her lip when Fitz failed to close the door all the way, leaving only just a tiny sliver open.

He gave her a helpless shrug when she glared angrily at him, and they both hoped that whoever entered the room didn’t notice the closet door. Frozen stiff against one another, the two soldiers waited and listened. Soft cursing came from the other side of the door and the sound of a drawer slamming open made Sasha jump, the motion jarring her injured knee. She let out a sharp gasp, partially muffled when Fitz all but slapped a hand over her mouth. The noises stopped for a moment and the duo held their breath, staring into each other’s eyes and mirroring the fright of getting caught.

Except the further Sasha looked into his eyes the more she could see, in the dim light, that there was a twinkle of excitement in Fitz’s eyes. When the sounds continued, Sasha narrowed her eyes at him and he gave her a half smile (a sort of shrug) before dropping his hand and turning his gaze away.

“Oh come on,” they both heard and curiously, Sasha pressed herself closer against Fitz in an attempt to peek out through the thin opening of the door. The obstructed view only gave them so much to see, but from what Sasha could make out, the figure of a short, bald looking fellow was moving to and fro between drawers and peering into the IV bags above Historia’s bed.

He paused for a moment before lifting his wrist up, eyes glancing back and forth between the watch and the machine. Counting what, neither of them knew. He seemed to have found satisfaction because he was sighing and digging into his pocket. He pulled out a small bottle taped with a red sticker, filled with a clear liquid and after searching within the drawer again pulled out a syringe. Ripping off the paper with his teeth, the bald man pressed the needle end of the syringe into the bottle’s top and held it upside down as he pulled on the plunger.

 _What is he doing?_ Sasha asked to herself, feeling something in her stomach begin to churn uncomfortably the more she watched him. When she glanced up at Fitz, his eyes were narrow and suspicious.

Suddenly, the main door slid open and they jumped when the bald man gave a startled yelp, bottle and syringe nearly flying out of his grasp. He moved quickly, dumping the bottle inside the drawer and placing the syringe behind his back as he whirled around. In walked a tall, menacing man with gray hair, and the short man nearly sighed out with relief.

“Heinz!” the short man squeaked, “Fuck, you nearly scared me to death!”

“Don’t get ahead of us, Claude,” the tall man replied, voice deep and cold. When he approached the bed, he hovered over it like a vulture would circle dying prey. It was then that the two hidden soldiers spied the Military Police emblem on the back of his jacket; the green unicorn appearing almost black because of the lack of lighting.

“It’s been a fucking week,” the policeman growled, pacing around the bed before slamming his hand over the man’s nape, making him let out a sharp groan of pain. “Why is she not awake?”

“I told you!” Claude wheezed, cowering. “Best case scenario was two days, Heinz, and even that was a long shot!”

“Boost the dose then, fuckwit,” Heinz snapped, turning to grip to his accomplice’s white jacket and gave him a firm shake.

“No!” Claude exclaimed, wide eyed glaring determinedly into his oppressor’s gaze, yet he looked sick as he did so. “I already boosted the dosage, asshole! If we do this again, we don’t know what could happen. If we want this plan to succeed, we need to do this _carefully_. I don’t know about you but I would like to avoid having The Ripper hunt my ass down for botching this up.”

A cold chill fell through Sasha’s body, making her hands clench tightly around the fabric of Fitz’s jacket. _Kenny…? Kenny The Ripper? He was alive?_

“No…he can’t be…” the words curled soundlessly past her tongue, leaving no trace of breath. It might as well as have been a gasp because Fitz was shooting her a surprised look, as if stunned she knew the name. _Impossible._ Sasha thought, ignoring Fitz’s attention. _I saw him fall. He’s dead._

“Unless you want _me_ to hunt your ass down and make your life even more miserable,” Heinz hissed back, seizing the short man and pushing him close. “You will _boost the damn dose,_ Doctor Claude.”

“I already told you,” Claude wheezed, shaking. “Threatening me will get you nowhere. Only I know how much to give her…so you’re going to have to trust me, or you can kill me and have The Ripper on _your_ ass for screwing it up.”

A moment of tense silence passed before Heinz slowly loosened his grip on the Doctor’s lapels. “Very well, Claude,” he relented with a smooth tone, and that made the hairs on Sasha’s nape stand on end. “I’ll trust you.”

Claude looked uneasy, but nodded as he turned and pressed the syringe he had in his hands needle-first into the IV by Historia’s bed. The girl was unresponsive to the exchange around her, lost in comatose dreams. Suddenly, before Claude could press the plunger in, Heinz gripped the back of the man’s neck again.

“If she doesn’t wake soon, and I mean soon _Doctor_ ,” Heinz murmured, slick like the hissing of a snake. “Then I will step in, and you won’t have to worry about the Ripper coming to get you. _Because I’ll make sure that every scream you let out never reaches the ears of anyone else but your own._ ”

Pushing away, Heinz crossed his arms as Claude visibly gulped and pressed the plunger, the liquid disappearing into the cables that fed into Historia’s body.

Sasha pressed tighter against Fitz, lifting a hand to press against her lips to stifle the scream that threatened to escape past her chest. _What are they doing to her? Historia!_ Tears burned in Sasha’s eyes as she watched, helplessly, while the contents of the syringe were emptied into her friend’s bloodstream.

Fitz’s good arm wrapped and squeezed the woman to his chest, jaw clenched tight as he held on to Sasha, both unable to do nothing but stare out the sliver of space and wait.

“It’s done,” Claude said after removing the syringe.

“Let’s hope this time she wakes.” With a twist, the military policeman turned toward the door. “How much time for the drug to take effect?”

“On the last dose it took nearly three hours to get some kind of physical response,” Claude replied. “So we can hope that in one hour or two, her body will be reacting to the substance. If she wakes, we’ll be here.”

Heinz nodded, gray hair moving over the smooth curve of his cheekbones, “Report back to me in an hour, Claude. I want results.”

“And my cover?” Claude asked nervously, pushing the used syringe inside his coat pocket. Heinz let out a short grunt of exasperation.

“Fine, return to your assigned post. But as soon as you get off your post, return here immediately and make sure you get enough data to send back to our superiors. I would like not to be humiliated this time.” With a final turn, Heinz appraised the figure of Historia before heading toward the door, stopping suddenly when his eyes passed over the closet.

Sasha and Fitz immediately looked away, pulling as far as they could away from the door. Sasha plastered her face against Fitz’s chest, trying not to shake and whimper with anxious despair. Hearts pounding, they tried not to breathe in the tiny eternity it took for Claude to speak up. “What is it?”

“…Nothing.” Heinz replied and the sound of the door opening, footsteps receeding, and the door closing let the two exhale shakily.

Neither of them moved for a long moment and after the pain in Sasha’s knee became insufferable, Fitz pulled toward the door and peeked. “Are they gone?” Sasha whispered.

“Yeah,” Fitz spoke and she let out a deep breath when he pushed the door open. Carefully, they made their way out, ready to jump back in the closet if someone else appeared without warning. When no one came, Sasha nearly slid down to the ground, trembling. “Hey, hey,” Fitz spoke, grabbing on to her arm and not allowing her to fall any further. “We’re okay, come on.”

Suddenly, Sasha snapped her eyes right into his, “Historia. Fitz, what are they doing to her? What did they give her?”

Fitz shook his head, “I have no idea, but my guess is it’s some kind of healing booster. I knew there was something off. Alex told me she had suffered from having nearly her entire stomach punctured, and the amount of blood loss… the important thing is, we need to get her out of here… where, though?”

“Hanji’s,” the long haired woman spoke up, butterscotch eyes bright with resolve. “If we get her to Hanji’s and explain the situation, she can do something.”

Fitz nodded before stopping and looking back at the girl on the bed. “How though?” He hissed, “It’s not like I can carry her, and there’s no way in hell you can either.”

Sasha’s teeth worked on her lower lip, looking down and around for anything, until an idea blossomed in her head. “Do you think you can go bring the wheelchair?”

Fitz nodded, “Yeah, but we’ll need a distraction. We can’t just take her and have it be okay with the people up front.”

“Let me handle that.” Sasha said, turning a fierce gaze over to Historia. “Go get the wheelchair. Someone is drugging one of my friends with something potentially dangerous, and I’ll be damned if I let them get away with it.”

Fitz reached over and pressed a reassuring hand over Sasha’s shoulder, “She’s going to be okay.” Yet, she saw the hesitation in his eyes and she knew that this wasn’t certain. Sasha smiled at him, and he turned toward the door, before stopping.

“What is it?” Sasha asked, already hobbling toward the other side of the hospice bed. Fitz looked toward the drawer where Claude had last been frantically searching for a syringe. With purposeful steps, the brunet strode toward the drawer, good hand already reaching for the handle and pulling it back.

“I knew he left it,” Fitz muttered and reached in, pulling out the bottle, red sticker bright beneath the weak light of the sconces. “There’s still some left of what Claude put in her,” He said. “You think it’ll be enough for Hanji to figure out what it is?”

“Anything is better than nothing,” Sasha stated, reaching for the covers and pulling them back. “Now, go.”

Fitz gave her a small smile before tugging the bottle inside his jacket pocket, “Be back in a jiffy,” he said before disappearing out the door. Sasha looked back down at her friend, eyes blinking away tears to make way for hardened tenacity.

“Let’s get you out of here and somewhere safe,” Sasha said as she pressed her weight against her good leg and began to shift Historia out of the covers. “I won’t let anyone else try to hurt you any more, Historia. I promise.”

And as she pulled the girl up, Sasha bit on her lip hard, ignoring the pain of her leg and focusing on saving her friend. In her determination, Sasha pulled at one of the sheets and wrapped it around Historia’s body, hiding her face and hair from visible sight.

What Sasha failed to catch, was the lightest twitch of movement swept over Historia’s lips, and the subtle clench of the blonde woman’s fingers against the white sheets of the mattress.

* * *

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware it’s been two months and before I heartily apologize, I’m honestly somewhat disappointed to some of the responses I’ve been receiving. While I understand that you want nothing more than to read what happens next, sending me private messages and shouting for me to “get a move on” is disrespectful. Let me make something clear; This is fanfiction. Which means that while this story is very dear and important to me, when it comes to my personal life, it doesn’t take priority over other things. These past few months have been supremely difficult on me, due to experiencing a series of stressful events that triggered my depression and made me borderline suicidal. I’ve written and rewritten this chapter, literally, fifteen times and because of the above dispositions, I’ve been unable to really write something I liked. Receiving those messages didn’t spur me on, they made me feel worse. I felt terrible for not publishing sooner, and I felt like a failure each time I couldn’t write what was in my head. These past two months, I needed to focus on improving my mental health. Please, if you were one of those who sent me those anonymous messages, I hope you understand my situation and think more carefully before writing that sort of message next time. Thank you.  
> As a special apology, chapter 18 will be published this Sunday. Thanks again.


	19. Rivulet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “War means fighting, and fighting means killing.”  
> ― Nathan Bedford Forrest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s inspired tracks are (in order of scenes): Morning, by Hauschka. Fallen, by Henry Jackman. Black Cauldron, by Audiomachine. Run Boy Run (instrumental) by Woodkid. With Honors, by Ramin Djawadi. Craco, by Hauschka.

_The day of the wedding_

* * *

 

The glint of sunlight over smooth pieces of a chess board was almost obnoxious. It bounced off the sleek surfaces to play figures over concentrated eyes, appearing bizarre enough to even make the two soldiers sitting on opposite sides of each other rub at their eyes. Fingers reached up to scratch against stubble and rub against a square chin. Pale blue eyes, blinking blearily after drooping for a moment, rolled before the woman shook her head and let out a jaw-cracking yawn before stretching in her seat. Her companion, a tall lanky man with flat apricot hair didn’t acknowledge her as he stared at the board.

A sigh, “You’ve got to move, Turik.”

It was already at that point of the game where focus and concentration broken usually led to snapped patience. The Outpost officer flat out snorted in annoyance at his comrade. The woman rolled her eyes smugly before pressing her cheek against her palm.

“Oi, you took five whole minutes on your last turn—” It was her turn to snort. Turik scowled, “—and I just barely started mine. So sit back and shut up, Larka.”

Larka shook her head, pale hair glimmering beneath the noon sun. “Look, if you’re going to be a sour player then we should just stop—” The sound of wood striking wood unecessarily hard made her start in her seat. Turik gave her a wide grin, and sat back after releasing his chess piece on the board.

“Check!” he announced proudly. The woman pursed her lips and adjusted her officer’s uniform as she looked over the pieces. Finally she scowled.

“You can’t move there,” was her duly statement.

Turik let out a grunt, looking affronted, “Yes I can,” he defended. “Knights can jump over pieces.”

“In an ‘L’ formation,” She motioned with her fingers and the lanky officer nearly toppled the game over while he leaned over it. He made exaggerated motions with his hands following the track of his piece.

“That _is_ an ‘L’ formation, are you _blind_?”

Larka frowned with irritation. “It’s three spaces forward and one space to the side, dimwit! Not four and two over!”

“That’s not even specified in the rules!”

“Adam explained this when he was teaching us,” Larka stressed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. “You were _there_ when he said so!”

The door of the office swung inward before the two could say another word, interrupted by a sigh and a casual, “Honestly, again?”

The tall and burly officer had a smile on his face, looking amused even if his voice sounded exasperated, “I told you two to play nice.”

“I am trying to play nice! Bale, Turik’s cheating!” Larka announced, pointing her fingers at the opposite player. A series of offended gasps escaped Turik’s thin lips as he threw his hands in her direction and back at the board.

“I’m no—I am NOT cheating—she’s the one who—!”

The officer named Bale scowled, bushy blond eyebrows collecting over gray eyes with some aggravation, “Look, I don’t care who’s playing nice or not,” he insisted, taking several steps forward to grab a random chess piece and placing it in another spot. “Because, checkmate, I win.”

Turik let out a squawk of surprise, “You can’t do that!”

Larka pursed her lips. “You messed up my moves!”

Bale shook his head. “Game’s over, you two. Back to your stations.”

“Thanks a lot!” Turik whined before pushing himself from his chair, “That game was rigged anyway.”

Larka’s lips pulled down, making her round face appear pinched, “You’re just mad because I was beating you!”

“Larka,” Bale intervened, pulling towards the Reports station of the office. “I want you to supervise Turik. You two will be going on rounds.”

The woman tossed her arms to the side. “Oh come on, and that’s just protocol! There hasn’t been a Titan sighting in nearly two years, dude.”

“I’m not worried about titans,” Bale replied as he plopped on the swiveling chair. “I’ve been hearing reports of a group of bandits near the south, and we do not have enough supplies to last a confrontation. Besides, news of the wedding in the Survey Corps’ castle happening today is bound to attract all kinds of idiots. Just go make sure our borders are clear alright, Sergeant?”

With a loud groan, Larka slid out of the room. With scuffing footsteps, the soldier moved down the hallway of the Outpost, heaving a heavy sigh as her hands moved over her gear and adjusting the belts. She glanced down over her belly, noticing the pudge with a light quirk of her lips. Life had become easy since the Titans fell, and with the lands in Wall Maria regained, food had become easier to come by. Finer delicacies like chocolate were now available to those who had a pretty coin—and with her pension that was more than easy to come by.

Larka slowed to a stop over a reflective window by one of the offices of the building. Her cheeks had gotten rounder, her hips and breasts swelling a bit more, and for a second Larka admired herself. She remembered being paper thin and having to pull on the straps of her gear to the last notches because they hardly fit. Now the leather was snug around her thighs and she had gone up three notches in size. Sure, using the 3DMG became a little more uncomfortable, but she liked the way she looked now. Gone were the protruding bones of malnurishment.

She’d even caught some of the male officers eyeing her with some appreciation since their food intake increased, and it was a nice change for once. She looked like a woman now, instead of the starving kid she had been when she joined the Garrison.

Smiling to herself, Larka moved back toward her destination, feeling more pep in her as she made her way to follow orders. When she arrived at the edge of the building and toward the stocks of equipment, Turik was already sliding his swords into his gear. When she met his gaze he sneered at her.

“Are you done checking yourself out?”

“I look delicious,” Larka snorted back as she found her equipment and adjusted it over her hips. “You got something else to say?”

Turik rolled his eyes before he took off toward the treeline. Within moments, wind was yanking through her bangs and clothes, and the feeling of weightlessness that had once scared her shitless now felt nice in her stomach. The duo maneuvered through the large trees above the outpost and toward the edges of the grounds. As usual, they communicated through motions of their arms, since speaking was harder now that they were less used to the extreme acrobatics of the 3DMG. Triggers and bursts of gas exploded behind them as they moved.

The route finally ended with a sudden break in the woods, and the familiar tree station peeked up at them with its bright yellow flags and the wave of another officer on its branches.

With a yank and a burst, both Turik and Larka landed onto the thick tree. Feet struck the sturdy branches with loud thumps and the tingling sensation that followed each flight made them feel giddy. Waiting near the trunk were the officers they were supposed to replace. “It’s about damn time,” one of them grunted, his long hair covering most of his face save his mouth and nose.

“Did you guys wait long?” Turik asked with a snicker.

“Shut up, Turik,” the long-haired one retorted, pushing off the trunk and reaching for his triggers. “I’m overdue for a nap because you twats were probably screwing around with that board game.”

“You’re extra touchy today, Mal.” Larka rolled her eyes. “Did Dilee refuse to put out again?”

Mal let out a huff through clenched teeth, not offering anything else before taking a step off the branch and falling to the earth. Gas sputtered behind him as he took off. His partner—Dilee—sighed, rubbing a hand over their hair. “Sorry about that, guys. Mal’s been like this all night.”

“What do you see in him, Beaker?” Turik asked. “Is it the hair? Because I have no problem growing mine out.”

“Leave it be,” Larka said before the other officer began to go on another tangent about their relationship. “Let’s just sign off and get this over with.”

“What’s for lunch?” Dilee asked, smiling gratefully at Larka as they took turns signing the document by the edge of the tree house.

“Ask Bale,” Larka replied with a heavy sigh. “Jerk wouldn’t even let me near the kitchen this time.”

Dilee laughed as they tightened the straps of their gear over their legs. Larka was impressed with Dilee, no matter how much they ate, they remained slim and beautifully androgynous. “I’ll see you guys at sunset. I’ll see about having some lunch brought to you.”

“Thanks!” Turik exclaimed, reaching over Larka to plant a grateful kiss on Dilee’s cheek.

“Don’t let Mal catch you doing that, Turik.” Dilee giggled, before waving off and jumping toward the air.

Larka smiled as she watched Dilee leave and then turning around to press her elbows over the rail of the tree house. “Nice day, huh,” she breathed despite the growing chill of the air.

“Eh.” Turik shrugged, and he made to lay done on one of the benches in the small station.

“Whoa—no, no, no. _You’re_ being supervised.” Larka waved at him. “Get over here and watch your station, Corporal.”

“Wha—?” Turik exclaimed, his face contorting with disbelief. “That’s not fair man!”

“Shut up and do it, brat,” Larka grunted, pointing toward her side of the tree. He let out a large huff of irritation while he grumbled to himself. Despite the gruff tones of her voice, Larka was sporting a grin when the wiry man pulled past her to settle against the rail. She knew she was supposed to stay near him but the day had been already long and she wouldn’t miss a chance for a light doze.

When she sat back on the bench, she waved off Turik’s sputters of indignation lazily before settling back against the trunk of their tree. A chill breeze blew in and Larka shivered, but the sun was directly overhead and felt warm over her scalp. Soon, she was lulling off with a smile as she listened to Turik grumble to himself every once in a while.

It must have been a dream, but she swore she felt something shift beneath her. Instead, she shrugged off the sensation and let her mind follow the hopes of today’s lunch, and hopefully the next time the merchants came round. Again, she felt the shift.

And again.

And again.

Until she was suddenly feeling hands over her shoulders, shaking her wide awake. Turik’s pale brown eyes were staring into her nervously. “Larka, wake up!”

“Oi, calm down, what is it?” She grumbled, but was already moving up while he was swiftly heading back toward his station. She followed without much thought, until he was pointing off toward a certain direction, sputtering all the while. “Turik—Turik, breathe man, what is it? Bandits?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt it,” Turik said, motioning and then reaching over to grab the pair of binoculars that had long gathered dust over the easy going days. “Look,” he insisted.

Larka let out a huff, but felt the weird sensation again. Like something was moving under her feet. Grabbing the metal binoculars from Turik’s hands—he hadn’t been trained in using them since they required a more experienced touch—Larka messed with the dials before pulling the bifocals toward her eyes.

Over the horizon, she could spot graying clouds and the swaying trees and woods in the distance, and as she searched the ground, she could spot nothing.

“I’m not seeing anything,” she said.

“Are you sure? Because I swear it looked like—” Turik broke off. Larka frowned, keeping her eyes over the area the corporal had pointed at.

“Like a what?”

She heard him breath out the word the moment she _saw it._

“A _Titan_.”

And then she realized what the weird sensations she had felt beneath her feet were. It hadn’t been anything moving underground. It hadn’t been shifts.

They were vibrations.

She felt the air suck its way out of her throat when she saw the immense figure appear and disappear through the trees. Turik gave a start next to her. “Did you see it? Is it there? I didn’t imagine it, did I?”

But no. It was impossible. There was no way. _They were wiped out._

Larka blinked away, trying to keep the blood from freezing under her skin, to keep her stomach from clenching with age old fear. When she looked back into the field glasses, she saw nothing, but the sensations beneath her feet were getting stronger.

“Larka?” Turik asked, yet she could say nothing. Trying to find words was difficult when you had no air in your lungs. Yet, at the same time, she was trying to be sure of what she saw, her mind running a million miles a second. “Larka, did you see it?”

But it didn’t _look_ like a Titan. Weren’t Titan’s supposed to be covered in plain flesh? This one looked like its skin had been stripped off, showing off only hardened muscle fibers and red flesh. Or was it just her imagination? Filled in a spot of horror because of Turik’s insistence and nervousness?

But it was ridiculous. They were wiped out!!

“Larka!!”

She shook her head, snapping her vision back into the binoculars, whiping her vision to and from but suddenly she could see nothing because Turik was yanking her arm down and pushing her out of the way. All she saw was how the binoculars slipped from her grasp to fall meters down into the ground. The vibrations beneath her feet now maddeningly real, she threw her head back up. But she didn’t see anything…!

Until…

“LARKA!”

And she saw it.

Blue eyes piercing into her from just meters to the left. Blonde hair glimmering light like knives into her eyes and stabbing fear into her stomach. For the worst moment, Larka froze as she saw it. It was immense, seventeen meters high, and with parted lips that revealed a devastating grin. The figure was female, the movement was terrifying because it was sprinting… _it was headed towards them._

“TURIK, GO!!” The scream ripped from her lips and Larka was scrambling away from the branch, turning towards the frozen soldier. She grabbed his arm, yanking him around before she threw them both off the branch. The fall and gravity jumpstarted their nerves and she rammed her fingers into her triggers harder than necessary. Bursts of gas and the sound of hooks releasing into the air filled her ears, yet they were not enough to hide the undertone of massive footfalls coming up behind them. Larka screamed, “Go—go!!”

Turik appeared close behind her, his eyes wild as he turned around to see how close the Titan was. “Turik, keep going! We have to warn the others!”

“What the fuck is that thing?! Is it an Aberrant?!”

“I don’t know,” Larka shouted back, swinging her body as hard as she could, and her muscles screamed in protest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and made her tremble. “But we have to get out of here and fast!”

Then Turik let out a shriek that made her blood run cold. When Larka turned, it was to see him staring behind him, and she felt something in her freeze in fright.

The Titan was right behind them, its eyes focused right over Turik and its lips parted slightly—as if grinning with amusement. Suddenly, Turik’s pants were soaked through the crotch, tears collecting over his eyes as he stared above him. His body made to move, to escape, yet the Titan’s hand was reaching out in a swift jab toward him and Larka felt a scream rip from her chest hard enough to force the taste of iron in her mouth.

Like catching a fly, Larka watched the Titan’s fingers clench over Turik’s body. Muscles jerking in fright but unable to look away, the soldier was forced to watch those same fingers clench, over limbs, and obscuring the last look she ever got from her friend. Turik’s eyes were wide and hopeless before they disappeared beneath the force of the Titan’s grip.

_Turik—NO!_

Crimson exploded from between large digits. One of Turik’s legs poked out from between the first and second knuckle, and all Larka could see was how the limb snapped to the right and blood gushed through to soak through the fabric of pants and slap over leather boots, and the skin of the rampaging beast that crushed him.

Pale blue eyes blinked away to be met by those horrifying azure orbs, and the full force of terror and panic made Larka feel colder than anything else.

_I’m going to die…_

Body recoiling from the thought, Larka turned her body and squeezed the triggers for all they were worth. Jettisoning faster than she had ever flown before, the young sergeant felt tears blur her eyes, her mouth drying up and filling with cold air as she gasped and heaved through the motions of survival. Yet, it seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn’t move fast enough, and she could feel the Titan inch ever closer. It didn’t occur to her she was sobbing until she saw the point of the Outpost building appear and she was screaming.

To her relief and quickly building hope, her eyes found the figures of her squad appear through the trees, flying in the direction of the titan and bearing swords over their triggers.

“ATTACK!” She heard Bale roar over the wind and rhythmic poundings of the Titan’s footfalls. Blades and battle cries whizzed past her as she approached the building, yet she couldn’t help but follow Mal’s figure as he tore through the air in the direction of the Titan’s legs.

Dilee followed close behind, their face scrunched up in focus as they swept toward the Titan’s arm.

“Don’t!!” Larka exclaimed, feeling fear grip her when she saw the Female Titan lift the fist that still carried Turik’s body and throw it toward Dilee. To her immense surprise, Dilee evaded their comrade’s body, slicing through the monster’s pinky and ring finger before flying past.

The Female Type stumbled before taking another step, and Larka saw that Mal’s strike hit true. Steam erupted from the wound on the Titan’s ankle, but it wasn’t deep enough to cause the right kind of harm.

Bale appeared around it, his sturdy body catapulting like a boulder toward the Female’s neck. Larka nearly shouted for joy, happy to see Bale’s blades swing toward the nape of the neck. All she had to do was blink before the loudest clang rang in her ears and forced her to brace herself. Bale’s metal blades shattered and spun to the sides, nearly killing Dilee as they flew past.

“Bale!” Mal shouted, and Larka felt immense confusion in her core when the Titan failed to fall. _That should’ve killed it._

Bale swung toward a tree, gritting his teeth as he tossed his broken swords away. “It can harden its skin!”

Larka pressed triggers and she swung back around to try to make sure Bale was unharmed. “Bale, are you alright?!”

“Larka, get out of here!” He bellowed before he dodged a punch from the Female type that split a thick tree in half. Branches and leaves exploded around them like confetti. Through the chaos, Larka saw Bale meet her expression with one of raw ferocity. “The Titans are still alive! You need to warn the nearest Outpost! Get the message out! We’ll hold it off!”

She knew what he said then and she felt tears burn in her eyes again. “I can’t leave you guys—”

“JUST DO AS HE SAYS,” Mal snarled as he spun towards the Female Type’s side, blades shattering when they met hardened skin.

“Larka, please! You’re the only one who can!” Dilee pleaded before letting out a shrill scream when the Female Titan caught their arm.

“DILEE—NO!!” Larka cried, but Dilee was spinning their swords against the grip enough to fall. Without warning the Female type twisted through the air, leg swinging before crashing into Dilee’s careening body. Vermillion exploded against a tree and through the violent shock, Larka could hear Mal howl in furious grief. Tears burning down her face, Larka felt her soul tear itself apart between running away and trying to save her friends.

“LARKA, GO NOW!!”

 Clenching her teeth, the young woman turned and flew off in the direction of the stables. The sounds of screaming and battle faded behind her as she found a horse. Without another thought, without another second doubt, Larka was kicking her heels against the horse’s side and bursting to a gallop.

_Turik… Dilee… Mal… Bale…_

Larka wept as she rode as fast as she could, throwing a final glance in the direction of the now fading building that once harbored fond memories, but now the final moments of her squad. The last thing she saw was the Titan appear by the building, holding a figure by the wires. At that distance, Larka couldn’t tell who it was, but felt a shriek lodge in her throat when she saw the Titan swing the figure and slam it into the ground. Then, it turned toward her and Larka felt her nerves jump once more.

Yet, instead of following after her, it turned in the other direction and kept running. Running… Running…

In the direction of the Survey Corps’ castle…

Larka knew she wouldn’t be able to beat the Titan there, but she had to do the only thing she could do.

So she turned around and spurred her horse forward in the direction of the nearest Field Outpost and hoped to God that they didn’t meet the same fate her comrades did.

* * *

_Two Years Ago_

* * *

“Again.” Annie’s voice was a lilt of monotone over the deep gasps heaving through Eren’s chest. He almost missed her voice completely if not for the fact that recently he had become painfully aware of it. As he struggled on the ground, hands bleeding and teeth clenched tight, he chanced a glance upwards, peering through the steam ebbing from his injuries and faintly distorting her stance just feet away from him. Annie’s crystalline eyes stared down at him with disinterest, the common boredom she wore since their years in training. Yet they no longer carried a gleam that Eren never realized she had, until now that it was missing. There had always been a sort of amusement buried deep when they had trained, something that made her look alive whenever he insisted she looked over their sparring.

The blue eyes that once enraptured him now pierced through him. Annie looked _older_ in her youthful skin, and it made him feel so horribly inadequate.  

Eren looked away, his eyes finding the very dirt his fingers stained with dark droplets of blood. Annie’s voice spoke up once more, firmer and clearer while maintaining its original volume, “Now, Eren.”

“Come on,” he gasped, glancing up at her and seeing figures of light dance over her skin, flashing bright against the cold of her eyes. “Give me… a second.”

Her eyes widened, just a fraction, and they looked iridescent. The sunlight was dying, its final cries scattering over the waves of the water rushing in the river just feet away. Those rays bounced off, refracting into a spectrum of diamonds that studded over her hair and flesh. Something in his chest stopped, turned his breath into a surprised tension that filled him with a giddy feeling. She looked beautiful then, just like she looked beautiful always—but this was a different kind. Yet, what kind, Annie would never let him figure it out.

The blonde woman took several steps forward, forcing his attention upwards as she neared, their eyes remained connected. Before he knew it, she was standing just inches away, glaring down at him as he sat on his haunches and stared at her with stunned curiosity.

“You want me to take it easy on you?” Her voice was soft, it always became this way when she asked him rhetorical questions.

“N-no…” he stuttered, feeling his tongue flap out the word awkwardly, his chin high as he looked up. Annie cocked her head and the diamonds of light danced over the rest of her face, bouncing off both her eyes and playing games over the curve of her lips. Suddenly, her hand was reaching out, gripping tight to his collar and yanking him upwards. He was only allowed to straighten into an upright kneeling position, his healing hands twitching over his lap in surprise.

“How long have we been here, Eren?” she asked him. He could smell the faint curl of her breath, bittersweet. “Do you know?”

“…A few days?” he replied, eyebrows furrowing. Her lips pursed and she was gripping the other side of his collar with her opposite hand, practically choking him in her grip.

“We’ve been here nearly three weeks,” she stated, her voice was passive even if her eyes were not. “Not counting the time you’ve been healing. Three weeks of you moping, of cursing your own blood because of a choice your father made instead of _doing something about it._ ”

Eren felt his chest fall at her words, deflating at the memories of the cavern, of Historia’s eyes looking up at him with anger, confusion, and disbelief. He tucked his chin down, dark hair swinging over his eyes, “I can’t—”

Annie gave him a rough shake, forcing his eyes back up to be pinned beneath hers and she was _so close_. “Do you have any idea what’s been happening while we’ve been here? Do you know where I go to get the food you eat? I hear about what’s happening. About people being massacred because of their entrusted nobility, Darius Zackley making public murders and forcing monstrous cruelties over innocents because of the selfishness of the Nobles. I hear of people killing _each other_ while the Ape continues to steal and turn innocents into Titans. I’ve heard and I’ve tried not to care. I hear and try to forget that I was once the cause of so much blood spilled… Do you know why?”

She paused for a moment and Eren could see the struggle within her irises. The lights stopped being diamonds. They shifted, and they look like scales, like the hardened skin she had once nearly killed herself within, and she didn’t look like the Annie he remembered. She looked like a portrait caught right inbetween the edges of fractured glass. Eren wanted nothing more than to reach out, in that moment, and touch her skin to feel if she was real. Yet her words slapped him into focus, made him picture the events she colored with her tongue, and felt the urge to stand up and do something.

“Because I was never meant to have that power. Your father told mine this much… you _can_ use it. Rod Reiss be damned to the deepest circles of hell. This is why I do not give you mercy,” she said and her fingers were letting him go.

“This is why I push you. Because I can’t care enough for them. You can.”

* * *

_Present Day_

* * *

In the months and years that concluded the Final Conflict, much of what remained of the Walls were destroyed; more out of symbolic means than necessity. Of course, considering the immense amount of land covered by the walls, it made no sense to destroy that which has protected for several generations. Remnants of the walls still stood tall over the horizons, overseeing the land and allowing the Garrison to use these structures as means as ensuring protection and clandestine watches over the people. No longer did they defend stone structures alone, but the people themselves; and this was enough to keep that Military faction strong in public support.

While damages to the walls were great where the Great Titans had broken free from their encasement, the overall integrity of the stone remained untarnished from deep within the earth. It became clear that humanity would be unable to be completely free of the Walls. So they did what they could with what they had—it goes without saying that what remained of the barriers were furiously investigated to ensure there were no more hidden Titans.

Wall Maria had been the most preserved, and decisions from the Great Parliament had been all for in considering her as a historic and strategic monument of Humanity’s Resilience. It was here that Eren’s travel led him… because just further away and into the boundaries of Wall Maria’s lands, lay the very river where he hoped to find answers. Where he hoped to find Annie.

On Wednesday morning, rain was coming down in full torrents over the ground, heavy and freezing. The hard ride from the castle to the battlefield where Eren and Annie had last fought had become wretched very fast. It came in waves—the rain. Sometimes landing almost painfully hard over his cloaked head, splashing against his eyes and cheeks with needle-prick stinging. Other times it would spray over him, leaving him damp despite the protection of his cape and clothes. It was miserable, but Eren didn’t stop to complain, not when he was busy trying to find a sign to follow. He remembered the reports; that Annie had headed south after their battle, but something didn’t feel right to him…

Gently, the titan-shifter spurred his mare forward, reaching down to caress the beast’s neck after she gave him an exhausted nicker. He had pushed his steed hard, harder than it would usually ride. The Survey Corp’s horses could withstand long periods of riding, trained and fed well enough to outrun Titans. Yet, he could tell that his horse, despite its excellent state of health, hadn’t been trained to do so in a long time. The pace he had set would’ve been no problem years ago, yet he could already see slight foam building on the edges of its mouth.

“It’s okay, girl,” he muttered, allowing her to push at a slow trot. Despite the kindness, the young man’s stomach was writhing with nerves and impatience, wanting nothing more than to kick the animal into a full gallop. Even so, he wasn’t cruel. By the time they were within walking distance of the area, Eren pulled on the reins gently. The mare stopped, huffing hard.

Swinging a leg over, Eren quickly fished out a container from the bag of provisions. He set the bucket down by the animal, already sloshing with collected water.  His horse dipped its head down and began to drink, and with a final pat, the cloaked soldier turned toward the scene of ripped earth and upturned trees.

A strong wind hit for a moment, yanking at his clothes and the cape around his shoulders. Eren trudged on, scanning for anything and trying to focus despite the memories of Annie’s titanic blue eyes, the way she had bent down and pressed her forehead against his and breathed out his name.

He moved without speaking, clenching his teeth to keep from chattering. Finally he approached the remains of his Titan host, almost completely gone save the still rotting pieces of bone, flesh, and old blood. Biting down on his lip, he approached. Rain had already collected mud through the scene, and while he moved he picked up on the scent of the decayed titan flesh, having already steamed into smudges of black and ichor. Eren swallowed back bile, lifting an arm to press against his sensitive nose before grunting and moving on. He could see the markings of battle easily enough, and finding the last place where Annie had been over him didn’t take him long.

He didn’t know how long he had surveyed the scene, mind racing as he continued to replay the events of Annie’s abrupt appearance.

 _Why now, Annie?_ He thought as he jumped over a deep gash in the earth, stumbling and yelping when his eyes found a fallen soldier several yards away. Blood had long since staled over the moistened grass, turning the earth a rancid brown color. Something inside him clenched, making it difficult to swallow, yet Eren did it anyway, looked away and kept moving forward.

Only, he almost couldn’t.

Because when he did, it was that much easier for his eyes to find the other bodies of soldiers killed because of Annie. _How many does that make it now?_

_How much blood is she responsible for?_

_Armin’s blue eyes flashed with hardened resolve and violence. A look Eren recognized intimately. “I’m going after her.” There was no compassion, just the driven burn of vengeance. “And, I’m going to make her pay for what she has done.”_

Nails biting into his palms, Eren exhaled—his breath coming out hot and burning into a white cloud of steam. A nudge to his elbow tossed him away from the dark place his mind was beckoning him to. Glancing up, Eren met the gaze of his horse. The mare blinked at him, eyelashes clogged with water before she nudged his arm again with her nose, warm air puffing out through her nostrils.

Eren smiled at the animal, rubbing its face with a cold hand. “Come on,” he sighed, “the sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Eyes back on the ground, Eren let his hands fall back over the reins of his steed, leading her further into the scene to scout for clues. By then, the rain had slowed, striking his head with occasional drops and a fine spray of mist that curled almost into a fog. Through the thin film of percipitation, Eren’s green eyes spied something different in the earth, and he almost disregarded it if not for the twinge of insistence pulling him toward it. Taking wide steps, he closed the distance, eyes trained on the spot that had gathered his attention.

When he was within several feet of reaching it, his eyes widened, hand dropping the reins of his horse as he ran the last few steps. It was three markings that broke through the earth in matching waves, clearly different from the destruction around and would’ve been completely impossible to see through the clumps of earthy ground. Yet, there was no shadow of a doubt. They had been drawn there, and their berth suggested something wide, like the fingertips of a titan.

“She knew I would follow her,” He murmured to himself, feeling something inside him rise and press a livelihood in his blood that made the dreary sensations of exhaustion melt away.

He knew what the markings meant, he knew of there being no other location she would tell him to go. Annie is alive, Eren knew. But most importantly… She was in danger.

Feet turning sharply, Eren bounded toward his horse, sweeping his legs around the animal’s back and into the saddle before kicking into its sides, urging it into a startled gallop.

 _I’m coming, Annie._ Eren leaned forward, teeth gritting with effort as he felt the wind slap hard against his face and rip his hood off his head.

Following tracks would get him lost, just like she would intend for those who followed. No. The only way he could get to her, was by heading to where she taught him what he knew, to where he knew he loved her. But if he was to find her, he would need a map.

It was late Thursday evening when the weather clashed icy blankets of snow and sleet all over the land, forcing the Titan-shifter to find shelter in a barn near the outskirts of Wall Rose’s less populated villages. He had hoped for a discreet hiding place, yet he had been forced to keep with him his horse, hands covered in bloodied makeshift bandages from ripped cloth. It was there that Eren took his steed and allowed it to eat hay from the bales nearby and with gritted teeth, sank his hands into a small mound of snow that had built just outside the doors. Steam hissed into his face from where his heated hands soaked crusted blood through the wounds his incissors had mauled hours previous. The failed attempt to transform caused him immense pain, yet it didn’t last. Carefully, he witnessed his skin stitch itself back to normal, the blood steaming away and leaving behind new skin. The brunet soldier (ex-soldier) sunk next to a pile of straw and brooded as he cursed and wondered at the pains in his fingers and palms.

It made no sense. Absolutely none of it. Why was he unable to transform? For several moments, Eren furiously thought of scenarios Hanji would pull up to explain why now—after having been able to transform already—his body failed to call up the strength of his Titan host. Yet nothing could make sense in his frustrated mind and long after the sleet and the wind died down, did Eren finally allow the exhaustion of his travel cause his eyelids to melt over his drowsy vision. Within moments, weariness dropped him into an unexpected and deep sleep.

It felt like it had been mere minutes since Eren let his body sag against the bushel of hay before his mind replayed the events of the past few days in a dream, offering no relief even in slumber. Soon, even his dreams taunted him.

_He was riding hard and fast, yet he would shift and suddenly he was running, Titan host roaring deep in his chest. In other moments he was stumbling over his own human legs—3DMG slamming against his thighs sluggishly. Ahead he could see her, Annie; golden hair down to her shoulders and face always pointed away from him. It was like running in syrup, his hands extending to reach before having to catch him from slamming into the ground._

_Yet his hands failed him and he collapsed, only to stare at the bloodied limbs with horror when he saw there were no bite marks. He looked up and he saw **them**._

_Ymir, Reiner, and Bertholdt. Strewn over the ground and ripped apart and Eren could feel a scream form in his throat when he saw Ymir’s head stare up at him with knowing eyes, glaring up at him despite the curled lips stretched into an agonized wail. “You promised…” a vision of Historia, hanging over a cross and bleeding appeared over him. Eren gasped, and Ymir’s eyes appeared once more over him._

_“You promised.”_

_A wide smile cracked through the dream, and then all he could see was the Female Titan staring down at him ravenously. Bertholdt’s body disappeared along with Reiner’s. Yet, Ymir’s remained, staring up at him accusingly._

_“You promised.”_

_“I’m going to make her pay,” Armin’s voice came and the air became frigid._

_Suddenly, it wasn’t Ymir._

_It was Frieda. She was reaching bloodied hands toward him, bearing teethmarks and making him realize his mouth tasted like blood. She was speaking, her mouth moving carefully yet in muted movements._

_“You could have stopped this.” Eren turned around, feeling his heart constrict when he saw Li, hair thrown over her face in a curtain of broken copper and auburn. Her body was covered in a ripped dress, hands and knees scraped, horrible gashes running everywhere. A large piece of glass stabbed into the soft skin of her shoulder, just inches below her collarbone while blood drip down her arm. “They were your friends, right?”_

_“Li, what…” Eren choked out. Li blinked again and her eyes were blue._

_“You could have saved her.”_

 It was a strangled cry that ripped from his throat, yanking Eren from his sleep. Cold sweat drenched his neck, brow, and the heaving expanse of his back. His green eyes stared wildly at the hay littered ground around him, vacant as he tried to regain track of his racing heart. It took several moments to shake himself out of the crawling sensations beneath his skin, the sickness in emotion that nearly left him unable to move. Blinking, he turned to see his horse standing just feet away, dark eyes watching him steadily.

_They were your friends, right?_

A knot formed in Eren’s throat, his hand trembling despite the fists he curled them into. A fierce emotion tugged at his Adam’s apple, making him feel a strange sort of pain and when he couldn’t shake off the images of Armin’s smiling face, of Mikasa’s warm gaze, did he realize that he was never going to see them again.

_I could always turn back._

To what?

And the answer left him feeling worse.

_There’s a lot I should have done…_

Pushing himself to his feet, Eren wriggled his toes within cold boots, letting the blood rush to his extremities.

The wind howled outside the aged wood of the barn. Eren glanced up to look at the gray light from the high window above. _What time is it?_ It was hard to tell with the dreary light of day. Winter was catching up, already frost and snow coated the edges of the glass. With a sigh, he turned away and towards his horse, reaching up to tug on the saddle and pull out what provisions he had.

“It’s time you head back,” he muttered to the animal, reaching up to stroke its snout. The horse let out a breath through its nostrils, surrounding his chest with warm air. Looking up, he met the animal’s gaze, “I’ve kept you long enough.”

The following minutes, Eren worked in silence, strapping what equipment he had firmly around his body, lips tight despite the growls in his stomach—silencing them with a slice of bread and cheese he had stolen. When he was good and ready, he pulled on the barn doors and led his horse out. Frigid air met his skin and forced the last tiredness away from his eyes.

The scenery was, thankfully, devoid of huge covers of snow Eren had worried would be there. Instead, fine dusting and mounds of powder pushed within stalks of grass, creeping through branches of trees all around. Above, the sky was pale gray, casting a gloom throughout the land.

With a nod to himself, Eren walked out and let the barn doors slam behind them. Not wanting to waste more time, the titan-shifter turned his horse in the direction they had traveled and slapped his hand over its rear. It gave a startled huff before breaking out into a gallop, its legs taking it far away in a short amount of time.

Eren watched it, chest heavy as he watched the animal turn into a small moving figure in the distance.

_Goodbye… Armin… Mikasa._

Slowly but surely, Eren let his stomach settle and remember the heat of power. Slowly but surely, Eren found himself cast and alone in the world and it was then he _remembered._ Lifting his cloak to cover his head, Eren turned toward his destination, fists clenching at his sides with determination.

The time for second-guessing was over.

* * *

The skies no longer offered respite in hues of blue and majestic rays of light, and this was perfectly fine with the Captain of the Special Operations Squad. Sleet fell in sporadic sprays, sometimes soaking through their cloaks, other times slicing at their exposed cheeks. Once upon a time, Levi would have complained to himself, muttering and brooding within his hood and throwing black scowls at the soup of dark gray above them. Instead, there was nothing in his heart save razor-sharp instinct, slowly but surely slicing its way through the webs of doubt that had wrapped themselves around his heart.

It was strange, but the farther Levi rode from the castle and away from everyone there… the more he could remember what it was like to ride free through impossibly wide lanscapes. While physically unpleasant, the rain and snow felt like a cleansing of sorts. Each gust of frigid air numbed at his skin, and it felt good to him.

The first days of riding, Levi had been bereft within the confines of his mind. Replaying over and over the final moments he had with Mikasa, taunting him with the last image of her walking away from him after offering her short goodbye.

She had been at his side like his shadow the following morning they had their last meal together. He had been unable to remove the sensation of his skin that insisted on remembering how her body had felt against his, how delicious her skin felt beneath his fingertips, and how her fingertips had drawn dreamscapes over his flesh and shaky moans from his lips.

Worst of all were the last moments they shared before his squad had mounted their horses and thundered away. Worst of all was how he couldn’t shake off the feeling that when she walked away from him after pressing her kiss against his knuckles, he was losing her.

It was ridiculous, yes. Feeling such a thing after they were finally together after waiting months— _years_ in his case—to accept one another. Even more so when the last moments had been his idea.

_“No tears,” he had stated the morning they had pulled apart. Mikasa’s hands paused at his throat, fingers wrapped around his cravat as her eyes bore a question into his. So, he clarified, “We won’t be together for a few weeks, maybe months. Whatever comes from this expedition, neither of us know. I want you to know I have no regrets, Mikasa. No tears.”_

_She gave him a short nod and her fingers continued where they left off, gently tying off the remainder of the cloth. Her hands then followed over the planes of his chest, sliding to land over his shoulders and near his neck. He allowed a last moment to marvel how it felt, letting his gaze soften over hers as she took in his appearance._

_“No tears,” she repeated quietly, and then she lifted a hand to wipe against his cheek. As if she was wiping away stray emotion from his face. It nearly tore him apart._

Lightning flashed ahead and the rain grew stronger, striking with stinging force and snapping Levi back to his place on his horse. The steady bellowing of air that came from the animal beneath helped ground the Captain and return his mind to the friction of strategy.

Hours had passed, and despite the churn of his stomach, Levi knew that the sooner they arrived to the Outpost, the sooner it meant they could take some time to rest. With a raise of his arm, he shifted the reigns of his horse, tugging gently. The beast let out a snort before decreasing pace.

Without need for words, Levi watched Armin’s horse pull ahead and fill the spot he had left. The blonde’s hands were tight fists around the leather thongs. A burst of wind nearly blew his hood back and Levi got a clear look of aggravated focus yanking at the corners of Armin’s lips.

A flash of lightning, a spark—and Levi remembered Petra. Her eyes filled with rage as she had once ridden by his side, carrying the same fury for vengeance in her blood. She had flown in the air like a hellbent wraith, shrieking her agonies for the friends she had lost—sealing her spot on his squad, and closing the book to her inevitable demise.

Erd had stood by the evening they returned to a post, watching the young woman chop firewood under the drizzle of rain. Tension and grief coiled beneath her muscles, and Levi could only stare as she lifted hands to wipe at a face turned away from them. The tall soldier sighed at his side, muttering to himself, “ _How could a person stay this angry for so long?”_

Petra’s skin reddened with the sting of Titan blood, yet the mark didn’t leave her cheek even after the rain fell. The steam across her face only served to hide her tears. Levi had stared in silence, like one would stare at the sky after it ripped itself apart. When she finally turned to him, it was with a broken stare.

 _“It didn’t help,”_ she had croaked. _“They’re still dead…”_

He found himself loving her then even though he knew he shouldn’t have.

Petra’s body was smeared over the trunk, blood running the same cheek she had once stained in Titan blood. It didn’t steam away. Long after Titans burned to the earth… nothing seemed to make it better.

_It didn’t help._

_“She’s still dead,”_ and Mikasa had gripped to his hands and pressed her forehead to his.

_“We all die, Levi.”_

“Captain Levi,” Li’s voice broke from behind, snapping Levi away from his thoughts yet again. _What’s the matter with me?_ The thought came and went as he turned a gaze toward the woman riding yards to the side. “There’s a company to the northwest, riding this way.”

Beady eyes blinked away frigid rain to follow the directions, and sure enough, in the distance several blots of moving carriages and horses appeared, becoming clearer with another flash of lightning.

“Merchants?” Connie piped up.

“Bandits,” Jean growled not long after.

“Van Gocken—mind the cart,” Levi ordered, lifting his hand to adjust his cloak around his neck. “The rest of you, keep your weapons down. This terrain is not good enough for a counterattack.”

“What should we do?” Jean asked. Levi’s thin eyebrows furrowed for a moment in thought.

“We keep moving towards the Outpost. Armin,” the blond turned his attention towards him, “Keep an eye out for more sketchy figures, and figure out the best route away. I’m not in the mood for petty confrontations with pigs.”

Armin nodded and spurred his horse to gallop ahead. Narrow eyes turned back toward the edge of their horizon, following the lines of figures that moved and seemed to be adjusting their course to collide against theirs. Scoffing beneath his breath, Levi glanced behind, carefully studying the expressions of their teammates.

Given any other circumstances, they wouldn’t be nearly as tense. Yet foul weather usually left foul attitudes burning in bellies, so it wasn’t strange to see their faces send wary glares in the direction of potential battle.

Levi blinked his eyes away, finding acid churn in his stomach again. Another flash of lightning and thunder crowed in the distance. Armin’s horse rejoined their team, his blue eyes wide with electric knowledge. “There’s a ravine several miles ahead! We can avoid them there.”

“In this weather?” Li shouted back, sounding irate. “That ravine is a deathwish. Captain, we can outrun them.”

“We don’t know how long they can last!” Armin retorted, lips curling. “We’ve been riding for hours, and while our horses are barely strong enough to take us straight to the Outpost, we risk killing them trying to outrun bandits!”

“Then we take the fight to the Outpost,” Li said. “At least there we have a better chance of survival.”

Armin scowled, “The Outpost is miles farther and we have no clue if these bandits have more to their company ahead. The ravine is a risk but if we play our cards right, we can lose the bandits there, maybe even kill them without risking our equipment and risking the exposure of a secure military position.”

Lightning lit up the redhead’s green eyes, exposing a no-nonsense fury that made Levi raise a brow. “A secure military position with better defenses than the kind we have. If you’d rather risk dying in a hole in the ground instead of in a fortified location, then be my guest.”

“Enough,” Levi ordered and the argument was silenced, yet the shorter man didn’t miss the way daggers were flung inbetween blue and green gazes. “We ride toward the Outpost. The horses can handle the ride there. If they get close enough, we can lose them in those trees over there,” he pointed to an abrupt wall of woodland miles ahead. “For now, our priority is getting to our destination, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” the team exclaimed yet Armin’s voice was especially vacant, a fact Levi didn’t ignore.

“Armin,” he called. “Understood?”

The soldier said nothing for the space of a few moments, and Levi’s eyes further narrowed dangerously. Finally, Armin called back, “Yes… _sir._ ”

Leaning forward, Levi adjusted his position in the saddle, the constant movement almost painful but in the cold, was tolerable.

“Not to be the bearer of shit news or anything,” Jean called out after another hour of riding, “But it looks like they’re gaining on us!”

“The news has been shit already,” Levi called back. “Stay on course.”

“Sir…!” Armin exclaimed, motioning towards the canyon to their far left, “We can still…!”

“I said, stay on course,” There was no leeway being given, and Levi motioned his arm once more, forcing the squad to rotate again. “Jean, lead us there. I’ll have no more backtalk for the rest of the ride.”

Armin’s shoulders stiffened yet he followed orders without a word, and the friction between the Captain and Corporal was beginning to grate on exhausted nerves.

Shaking his head of all other distractions, Levi let his eyes focus over the land. Up ahead the wall of trees loomed, dark and forboding, yet promising a better location for them and their 3DMG. With every flash and every growl of thunder, it seemed like the figures kept inching closer. By the time they passed the ravine, the figures were close enough to distinguish the marks over carts and the color of their horses.

“No doubt now,” Connie called, teeth baring with a dark amusement. “Bandits.”

“Into the trees,” Levi ordered, yet a sudden boom in the distance distracted them. Several feet away from Li’s horse—to the right of their squad—a piece of earth exploded. The sound was so loud, the horses gave startled whinnies, and soon it wasn’t just water that rained down on them.

“—the fuck?!” Connie exclaimed.

“Canons!!” Li cried, shielding her head with an arm from the cascading earth. “They’re using canons!”

“How can they be firing canons mid-gallop?!” Jean exclaimed this time. Levi threw quick looks over the members of his squad, counting them off in his head to make sure they were alright. Yet, when his gaze landed over Alex, the boy had a strange expression on his face. It was more than horror…

“Jean, get us into the trees, now!!” Levi bellowed. There would be no up close confrontation like they had expected.

“Since when do bandits have mobile canons?!”

The Captain turned his gaze over to the enemy, eyes wide beneath his hood. Closer, he studied yet felt his stomach sink when he heard another boom in the distance. Another explosion, but several feet behind them. Yet it wasn’t like the first shot, muffled by earth. Alex let out a shout, and Levi swiftly turned to see that their cart had been damaged; the back blown to bits. The horses carrying the cart let out frightened whinnies, veering away from the explosion and away from the squad.

“Alex!” Li pulled back, urging her horse to get in the way of the runaway beasts. The two soldiers were almost completely seperated from the squad, and Levi understood.

_These are not bandits._

“Leave the equipment!!” His voice made both veering soldiers force their attention on him, “Get to the forest, now!”

“But the gear—” Alex protested.

“Is not as important as your life, Van Gocken,” Levi snapped. “Leave it!”

Sure enough, both Li and Alex spurred their horses away from the runaway horses, and they watched the cart veer to the far left in the direction of the ravine. Another explosion, and earth burst closer than before. Hearts racing and breaths escaping from lungs in short pants, the squad rode hard for the treeline. Another explosion ripped earth sky high just ahead of Connie.

Li shrieked, “CONNIE!”

Yet, his horse escaped through the cloud of dirt and earth, his hood thrown back and exposing his head, black with soil. Connie’s eyes were watering, blinking away dirt, his teeth bared back in pain.

“Connie, are you okay?!” Jean called, yet before he could answer Levi was snapping his reigns with more vigor.

“Move!”

Another explosion, and earth smacked its way against Levi’s face. The captain averted his face, coughing up particles of dirt and feeling his horse veer in another direction. A sharp ringing burned into his skull, jarring his sense of balance and making each motion threaten to fall towards the ground. Something latched unto his cloak, yanking him in another direction and pressing against his throat.

The sensation was violent and confusing, forcing the last of the memory he had been trying to ignore.

_He wanted to touch her again, to remind them both one more time—have one more greedy little moment of soul ripping unity—just so that he could take something more precious for when the nights became violently lonely. Before he could even reach for the skin of her jaw, Mikasa was pulling away and adjusting her scarf back around her neck. The wreath of crimson was worn, yet it suited her now that she was no longer a simple cadet, now that there was no more blood to keep its fabric bright._

_“Are you ready?” she asked him. Levi had said yes. Yet when she pulled the scarf over her chin and her footsteps carried her toward the door of their room, he wasn’t too sure._

_They walked toward the stables, wordlessly exchanging last-minute conversations with their eyes before he had no choice but to harden himself. When their feet led them to the main hall and close to the doors that led to the stables, Levi spoke, “I will be sending a messenger pigeon whenever we reach an Outpost. I want full reports of your health and of what’s going on here.”_

_She knew this already. He knew that. Still…_

_“Yes, sir.” Mikasa’s voice was calm. Empty._

_“If anything happens, relay your messages to the next Outpost.”_

_“I understand.”_

_And then they were by his horse and when he swung himself over the animal Levi felt cold. He was prepared to spur his horse to the front when he felt a tug on his cloak. His eyes blinked downwards, catching how her fingers gripped to the fabric gently, yet with a hint of desperation. Looking into her eyes, Levi was met with the flattened stare she reserved for moments when being stone was no longer an option, but a necessity._

_“Promise you’ll take care of yourself,” she said._

_He nodded, feeling himself break just a bit beneath the tremble of her lower lip. “I’ll be back soon,” he muttered, reaching to adjust the crimson scarf around her neck and lightly trace her jaw with his thumb. “I promise.”_

_And then she was taking his hand and pressing the gentlest kiss to his knuckles. A soft gasp escaped him, and he could do nothing but stare as she tightened her hold on his fingers and he wanted to press his mouth to hers just one more time._

_Without a word, she pulled away, dropping his hand and leaving his side empty of her presence. It was like ripping a hook through his skin. A shallow cut that burned and ached despite it being easy to mend. It drove him mad, it drove him into a structure of ice and stone within himself._

_Mikasa…_

“…tain Levi! Captain!” The drilling in his skull pulsed between his eyes just as he looked up. Alex was a mere two feet away, his hand gripping to his cloak and keeping him on his saddle. “Sir, are you alright?”

Blinking tears away, Captain Levi nodded and lifted an arm to shrug off Alex’s hold. He shook his head, driving away the scattered emotions trying to tear him apart and focused on the view ahead. The tree line was considerably closer, and he saw Jean’s horse push into the woods, followed by Armin’s.

“Get in the woods,” Levi ordered, throat hoarse and rough.

Another explosion ripped the earth behind, but there was a feeling of relief coursing through Levi’s skin. The danger had been avoided; they lived to see another day. It was the last explosion before they broke through the woods, and deep into the safe maze of tall trees and heavy foliage.

“Who the hell were those people?” he heard Connie ask ahead. “Last I checked, bandits aren’t armed with heavy artillery like that!”

“Let’s just focus on losing them,” Li replied. “Judging by how big their carts were, I doubt they’ll want to venture in here.”

“Take to the canopy,” Levi ordered, rubbing dirt from his cheek and feeling revulsion shake his skin. “We’ll talk more when we’re safe.”

With final exchanges of looks, the soldiers pulled out their triggers, and the sound of gas hissing and the pops of wires launching into the air followed. Levi turned a final glance over his shoulder, toward the opening of the woods they entered. Meters away, he spotted a lone rider, arm raised as if commanding a company to cease. Through the distance, gazes met for a split second and Levi felt a wave of… something.

That face was not familiar… but the look on it was.

Tearing away, Levi released the reigns and gripped the triggers of his gear before squeezing and letting familiar weightlessness yank him deeper into the woods.

* * *

It was late afternoon a week to the day since the attack on the wedding, when Mikasa’s feet took her directly toward Hanji’s office. As she moved through the halls, she ignored the soldiers that glanced at her and scrambled to salute. Her lapels weren’t any heavier than they had been before, but the single stitching and press of metal announced her rise in rank—made her feel a new sort of burden on her shoulders. Her look of intent had sharpened the moment she had pulled her skin from the cold sheets of her bed that morning, and dressing in her new uniform left a silence in her chest that was unwanted.

_“We must inform Levi immediately,” Erwin had said moments after Mikasa had informed him of Eren’s disappearance._

_“No,” Mikasa started, feeling almost as alarmed as the Commander looked at her outburst. Composing herself, the young woman shook her head. “This mission is delicate enough. If Levi were to find out that my brother left to find Annie… it’ll complicate things.”_

_“More than if he were to find out on his own?” Erwin countered. Mikasa held back a breath, swallowing thickly before meeting the man’s gaze with determined eyes._

_“Let me ride out to find Eren.”_

_Erwin was already sighing, “Mikasa—”_

_“I can do it, sir. I think I know where he is headed. If I manage to capture him before Levi finds out and before he is met with Annie…then we can avoid bigger issues. I can reason with Eren. He probably doesn’t fully understand what is happening right now…I believe I can make him see the truth.”_

_“Forgive me if I find no evidence to believe it, Mikasa.” Erwin responded, and Mikasa tensed. “While I do not doubt your relationship to Eren, you are several days behind them. Even if you rode hard…I doubt that you would be able to survive such a journey.”_

_Mikasa was resolute, “Regardless, I still have to try.”_

_Another flash of lightning—while this was distant it still highlighted the sharpness of Erwin’s gaze. In that short space of silence between them, Mikasa dared not move an inch, forcing herself to become steel beneath the scrutiny of the Commander. It felt like eternity before Erwin gave a short nod and Mikasa finally allowed herself to breathe._

_“Very well,” he said and she very nearly sagged in her chair, not realizing she had been stiff as a board. “I will permit you to ride out and attempt to capture Eren—however, not before writing a report accepting Parliament’s summons.” At Mikasa’s curious expression, Erwin smiled darkly. “If you are to ride out uninterrupted, we need to prepare the appropriate smokescreens for prodding eyes. You are promoted to First Lieutenant effective immediately.”_

_“Thank you, sir.”_

The instructions were clear enough, and while Mikasa wanted nothing more than to rush towards the stables and saddle her horse, she knew that if this mission had to be done, it had to be done right.

First things first, Mikasa needed to have a very thorough conversation with Major Hanji Zoe.

There were many things, the young woman had expected, when she had all but barrelled her way through soldiers and the squad that belonged to Hanji. Among the things she had expected was to have the door slammed back over her face and refused any assistance—a ridiculous thought considering Hanji’s inherent helpful nature—yet Mikasa was ready, nonetheless.

Instead, when Mikasa found herself within the Special Resources division of the Castle, what she found had not made the list at all. Standing before the door of Hanji’s office, Moblit stood, more than ready to keel over and pass out.

“Cadet Ackerman!” Moblit exclaimed, as if not registering her appearance until she was just a foot away from him.

“That’s Lieutenant now, Moblit.” Where the official tone in her voice came from, Mikasa will never know, but it was enough to shock Moblit enough to easily push him aside and push the door open. He hardly had the time to protest and by the time he was sputtering indignant words, Mikasa was already seeing the very thing that caused her to stop and stare in surprise.

“Ackerman…” Moblit was reaching a hand over to her shoulder, no doubt to yank her away and close the door, but Mikasa was stone.

Within the room, Mikasa saw Hanji standing over her bed, face turned away from her. The taller woman stood in nothing but a hospital gown, and the common sight of disarray—of upturned books, spilled pencils, and thousands of papers littering every surface—was completely replaced by immaculate organization. It would give Levi enough of a shock to put him on a similar hospital bed for a week.

Mikasa would never in her wildest dreams hope to expect that Hanji Zoe would allow herself to be in a place of such cleanliness, and while this sounded like the beginning of a bad joke, the atmosphere in the room was anything but lighthearted. Seeing Hanji just standing there, as if caught in a trance was unnerving. The rest made Mikasa’s resolve waver with uncertainty.

“Hanji,” the young woman spoke, clearing her throat and hoping to dispel the tension with the introduction of new purpose of mind. “I need to speak to you.”

“Oh?” Mikasa frowned, unsure how to react to the apathetic reply. Behind her, Moblit let out a shaky sigh.

“It’s about Eren,” the raven haired lieutenant proffered. Still, Hanji made no move. “It’s of extreme importance.”

Finally, Hanji stirred, and it was then that Mikasa truly narrowed down the reason why everything felt so off. In her commute to express the delicate nature of her latest mission, Mikasa had skipped over the fact that Hanji’s hair was down, and while on anyone else it wouldn’t have really mattered, it did strangely with her. It was the smallest detail but it made the difference.

Brown eyes blinked at her through the dim lighting of a study lamp, gazing without surprise or even emotion. “I was expecting you to show up sooner,” Hanji stated, and she gestured toward the nearest chair. “Come.”

“Major, I’m not sure if this is…” Moblit began but was silenced by a single glance. Mikasa didn’t bother glancing over her shoulder to know the soldier was giving in and releasing Mikasa’s shoulder. She was still stunned over the alien appearance of the room, of Hanji… of everything. Not for the first time, Mikasa wondered, what the hell was going on?

With a breath—the air smelled normal, _too normal_ —Mikasa crossed over the remaining boundary of the threshold and closed the door behind her. Hanji turned her body enough to plop back down over the cot and balance her elbows on her knees.

“So, Mikasa,” Hanji began casually, “what is it you’d like to know?”

“He came to you, didn’t he?”

“Cut to the quick as always, ne?” Hanji chuckled. “I’d ask you if you’d like a cup of tea but you’d probably ignore it.”

“Hanji,” Mikasa stressed, gathering her fingers to ball into fists. “Just answer the question.”

There was a silence where Mikasa could do nothing but stare intently over the older woman’s features. Beneath her eyes the stains of sleeplessness had become more apparent and while usual jovial expressions had given Hanji youthful energy, with all that gone, she looked practically ancient. Auburn hair hung past the woman’s face in haggard waves, as if she didn’t bother to brush the tresses and they only proceeded to age her.

“I’m guessing no one told you,” Hanji muttered and Mikasa took another step forward.

“Told me what? Of Eren leaving?” Mikasa’s teeth clenched tight. “Did you know he would leave?”

Instead, Hanji lifted a hand and brushed a hand over the side of her scalp, gathering the matted locks over to the other side of her neck. “Yes,” Hanji sighed. “He came to me.”

Mikasa fought the urge to pounce. “What did he tell you?”

“A message.”

Impatience flared within the raven-haired woman’s chest, stopping short of clenched teeth, “What message?”

Hanji glanced up then, yet the light from the lamp reflected from a lens, obscuring part of her gaze. “That you should leave him alone and be happy here.”

The impatience took a breath and heated, making Mikasa wish to grab a hold of Hanji’s shoulders and shake. “So you _did_ know he would leave?” she hissed. “And you did _nothing?!_ ”

“Never said that,” Hanji replied, straightening to lean back and press her balance over an arm behind her. “I merely gave you the message he gave me.”

“What is the matter with you?!” Mikasa shouted, finally breaching the space and shooting a hand to gather over the collar of Hanji’s gown. With a firm jerk, coal eyes met the flat gaze of bespectacled brown. “After all that’s happening here, I was expecting more from you, and yet here you are…a ghost! What else did Eren tell you, Hanji? Did he give you any clue as to where he was going? Snap out of it!”

Hanji said nothing but, met Mikasa’s gaze evenly. Yet the more the younger woman stared into the elder’s eyes, the more her anger dissipated. Something else registered and Mikasa slowly released her. The door slammed open, revealing Moblit, yet neither woman paid his intrusion any attention.

“Cade—Lieutenant, please step away from the Major!” Moblit exclaimed, the door sliding shut once more. “There’s something you need to know.”

“If has anything to do with Eren,” Mikasa replied, never breaking her stare from Hanji’s, “then spit it out. Otherwise, I don’t care.”

“Ackerman!” Moblit stressed but was silenced by Hanji’s raised hand.

“Eren came to me the day he decided to leave,” Hanji explained. “I knew he was leaving the second he arrived.”

_There was a gleam of determination that burned within Eren’s green gaze. For a split moment, Hanji had been startled, before she smiled darkly. “You’ve gotten better at moving around unheard, Eren.”_

_Eren didn’t respond. He simply moved forward until he was standing in front of her. He peered down at her until he finally took a final step and pulled the woman into a brief, yet tight, embrace. “Thank you for everything,” he said and Hanji felt her stomach tighten._

_When he pulled away, Hanji could feel her eyes burn. “You’re not coming back, are you?”_

_He didn’t reply, instead he turned around and headed for the door. He paused for a moment, hand grasping the doorknob, and then he looked at her over his shoulder, those green eyes reminding Hanji of a significant moment in her youth. Of a small kitten who had stared at her once before disappearing forever. “Mikasa will try to come after me, Hanji. Please tell her that she should stay. Stay here and be happy.”_

_“You know she can’t do that without you,” Hanji sighed, but Eren gave a rueful smile._

_“She’s Mikasa. She’s always been able to move on without me.”_

The wood of Hanji’s desk was stained with ink, coffee rings, and wax. The uneven bumps on the surface had always been something to gather the woman’s attention when her mind became overloaded with problems, theories, and ideas. They had felt curious beneath fingertips, and while they didn’t offer answers, they offered enough disconnection to gather back some fresh perspective. It was over the surface of her desk that Hanji’s gaze had landed, and she had followed the discolored curls and spirals of mess over the lamplight, yet she knew they wouldn’t be able to offer distraction this time.

“Hanji…” Mikasa’s voice came once more and the woman sighed.

“Did you know that Eren was sexually active, Mikasa?” The question was so abrupt and out of place that it momentarily stunned the slender soldier.

“I—what?”

Hanji snorted, lips quirking in some amusement. “You can sort of tell, you know. Men tend to hold themselves differently after they discover themselves sexually—isn’t that hilarious? Of course, I did see him escape into a room with a pretty redhead, but I didn’t really bother connecting the dots until he came by. It’s funny…”

Mikasa shook her head, eyes crinkling with confusion and even some irritation, before she fixed the older woman a black glare. “What the hell does that have to do with—”

The door slammed open one more time, this time gathering attention and forcing those within the room to appraise the latest intrusion. At the threshold stood Sasha, gasping as she held up a sheet wrapped figure over her shoulder, clenching to an arm tossed over her neck and struggling to stay upright.

“Major Hanji!” Sasha exclaimed. “Please!”

“Sasha?” Mikasa breathed, taking in the sight of bruises littering the woman’s face and the rips over her clothes.

“Please there isn’t any time!” Sasha muttered as she pushed her way into the room, Moblit moved quickly and caught the figure hanging from Sasha’s frame just as the auburn haired woman collapsed to the ground. She yelped and Mikasa took several swift steps to steady her comrade. “Fitz… he’s…”

Right on cue, the spiky haired soldier appeared across the space of the door, holding onto his casted arm and sporting a nasty gash over his face that bled. “Quick,” he exclaimed as he ran into the room. His hand found the door before throwing it shut, and he pressed himself against the wood.

“What the hell is going on?!” Moblit asked, moving to step in front of Hanji even while his arms were burdened with the hidden person in the sheets. “Cadet Fitzwilliams!”

Fitz threw a hand up to press his fingers against his teeth, making a sharp hissing noise to quiet them. Silence followed in between the tense breaths being inhaled, yet for the following few minutes that passed nothing happened. After a long enough time passed, Fitz relaxed against the door.

“Can someone please explain what the hell is happening?” Moblit asked again.

Sasha nodded before looking up at the older woman, “Major Hanji, we need your help. Please,” she finally motioned toward the figure in Moblit’s arms with a desperate look. “Please, help Historia!”

* * *

TBC


	20. Entrapment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “While all deception requires secrecy, all secrecy is not meant to deceive.”  
> \--Sissela Bok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s inspired tracks are: Alone in the Universe and Orpheon, by Theopany – Rittaikido, by Hiroyuki Sawano – With Honors by Ramin Djawadi  
> Disclaimer: *wahwah noise*

For the first time since Rico had arrived at the Survey Corps’ Castle, she felt frustration; an immense, ear-steaming, frustration that had everything to do with Erwin Smith. By the time Saturday rolled around, it seemed to settle in stomachs that a full week had passed since the bloody wedding. The air no longer stunk of burned flesh and faux leather. News had gone out to the Outposts nearby to send in some soldiers to assist in cleaning up the remains of the dining hall.

This was thanks to her, Rico gathered. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat irritated at Erwin for stewing in silence within his room for the past few days. Granted, he had been healing, but Erwin had become so preoccupied entertaining Military Police agents instead of giving orders to his men. There were still too many soldiers grieving. Too many able-bodied men in shock over the attack. There were many more injured in the Hospital wing. Even after there being so much rebuilding to do, 3DMG drills continued.

_Bloody military mindset_ , Rico had thought, vicious. Take away enough and they’ll just follow the previous routines until given a further order.

It had surprised Rico. She knew that Erwin was not the kind of man to brush aside the needs of his subordinates. While Major Harke and her cronies were, indeed, stressful to manage, Rico had seen Erwin push them aside the entire time she had been there. Yet, now, when his people needed his guidance and leadership the most, he remained holed up in that room with that cat-eyed woman with strict orders to not interfere.

This had become clear when Rico had made her way toward Erwin’s room Friday morning. Upon approaching, she became alarmed when she heard shouting near the door. Turning the corner, Rico beheld Lieutenant Alfons shouting at the stoic face of one of the Military Policemen. Rico recognized him as Arno Leonhardt.

“For the last time,” Alfons hissed, “Step aside! I must speak with the Commander immediately!”

“For the last time,” Arno parroted, gazing at the furious man with a bored look, “The Commander is busy. You can save your complaints about another time.”

“There are soldiers whose lives are at stake! If I don’t get the approval to use the emergency medicinal stock, then those lives are lost!” Alfons snarled, hands shooting out to gather the policemen’s lapels into a hard hold. “And I cannot get to the stock because _your_ men are not permitting mine from doing their job. On a ridiculous notion of upholding unknown protocol, no less. Now you either call them off, or get out of my way, but one way or another I am getting that medicine!”

And then Rico saw Arno reach for something behind his back. “You’re welcome to try,” the man gave a dark chuckle.

Alfons rose a fist by the time Rico lunged forward. Her hand caught the Lieutenant’s arm before it collided with the policeman’s face. Rico turned sharp silver eyes over to Arno, glaring daggers at him. Their staring intensified even as she addressed Alfons, “Lieutenant, stand down.” 

“Squad Leader,” Alfons acknowledged her, voice drenched in irritation. He refused to lower his arm.

“Until the Commander is available, I have enough power to speak for him.” Rico continued, looking away from Arno to look at Alfons. “How much medicine do you need?”

The Lieutenant looked baffled for a moment before composing himself. Dropping his arm and releasing Arno Leonhardt, he nodded. Rico didn’t miss the policeman’s move as he retracted his arm and let it hang casually at his side.

“I have the specifications written in a report,” Alfons replied, looking at Rico with new found gratitude and respect. Yet it burned with distrust whenever his eyes jumped to Arno.

“Leave the report with Officer Keiji when he returns. For now, you have the approval,” Rico said. Alfons nodded, placed his arm over his chest in a salute before thanking her. When he dropped the salute he threw the military policeman one last dirty look before marching off.

“Squad Leader Brzenska saves the day once again, eh?” Rico felt her muscles clench for a moment before she turned to face Arno. The dark blond man was peering down at her with a slight smirk. “Must be rather nice walking around with so much power.”

“Step aside,” Rico grunted, in no mood to entertain any further conversation with the man. “I must speak with Commander Erwin.”

“I’ll just have to tell you the same thing I told the Lieutenant,” Arno replied with an amused shrug, “He’s busy.”

“Not busy enough,” Rico retorted, turning her chin in a condescending motion. “It’s time for our daily matched meeting, considering the fact that he’s going to be my husband as per the law.”

At this, Arno raised a brow but did not respond. To Rico’s surprise, the blond man reached behind him. Instinct drove her hand to gather the blade strapped to her belt beneath her uniform. He regarded her reflexes with another amused smirk.

“Relax, Squad Leader,” he said, mockingly. She followed his hand toward the doorknob, suspicious. The metal gave a soft squeak as he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“What?” the word came from within the chamber, irate and impatient. Rico recognized Major Harke’s voice anywhere.

“It’s time for Miss Rico’s daily meeting with her beloved,” Arno replied, keeping his gaze on said woman. The silver-haired officer glared back. She hated the unnerving writhing in her stomach that followed the man’s words.

“Is that so?” Harke replied, “Well then, send her in.”

At that, Arno gave a leisurely nod before pushing the door wide open. He settled back against the wall beside the door, crossing his arms and motioning to the open threshold with a jerk of his chin. “He’s all yours.”

Rico gave him a withering glower and released the hold on her weapon before taking a few steps passed him.

“Oh, and Squad Leader?” Rico paused, “You might want to get something more effective than that little butter knife you’ve got there.” A cold chill flushed down Rico’s bloodstream, dousing her in a brief moment to register the underlying threat.

“ _The Titans will be forever remembered as humanity’s most successful predators, Rico,”_ Pixis’ words came back to her in that moment, recalling the way he looked at her from behind the silver of a canteen all those years ago. “ _But never believe for one moment that they could be considered worse than humanity.”_

Rico said nothing as she walked inside the room, and the door slid closed behind her once she was deep within the confines of the chamber.

As expected, the room was lit dimly by a couple of oil lamps. The curtains were drawn over the window to cover what weak light came in from the stormy sky outside. What Rico hadn’t expected was to see Erwin sitting on a wheelchair near the window, rather than in the cot where he was ordered to stay. Instead, Major Harke occupied the cot. Laying down and bouncing a leg over the other, she dragged her boots over the surface, soiling the sheets in dark stains. Rico felt fury burn through her skin, wanting to reach the knife kept against her belt and bury it into that cat-eyed woman’s thigh. Instead, she kept still and gritted her teeth in enraged silence.

“Well now,” Harke spoke up first and her lips were curling into an amused grin, “Glad you could join us.”

“Commander,” Rico spoke, ignoring Harke and turning her attention over to the Aryan. He didn’t react to her voice, staring through a crack in the curtains in silence. “Permission to escort Major Harke out the room?”

“Denied,” the Major replied, swinging her legs off the bed to rise to her feet. “Although, I would certainly love to see you try it.”

Rico bristled as she felt her self-control teeter dangerously close to the edge. “What do you want?” she ground out.

“I don’t want anything, dear,” Harke replied as she sauntered over to the Commander and moved behind the chair. Her hands found the grips over the wheelchair and she proceeded to wheel him away from the window toward the nearest chair. “I will just sit back and supervise you two while you talk romance. Isn’t that right, Commander?”

_What the hell is going on?_ Rico thought. Her eyes landed over Erwin’s figure. She felt nonplussed when he made no motion to counter Harke’s statement.

“You can’t be serious,” Rico snapped tersely.

Harke gave her a wide grin, foxlike in mischief, “As a heart attack. Please, sit.”

Rico sent Erwin a final look, hoping that he would do something, _say something_ , against Harke and order her to leave. Instead, he sat and said nothing, eyes hidden by the blond locks that fell from its usual combed style into disarray.

Biting down on her cheek, Rico took several steps toward the offered chair and sat roughly. Her eyes bore at the space between her and the Commander and letting her fists grip tight over her lap.

Major Harke jumped into conversation almost immediately after Rico settled in the chair. Her tone almost friendly as she spoke, “Commander Erwin was just telling me a fascinating story, Rico. Why don’t you go ahead and start from the beginning, Erwin?”

Rico blinked and let her gaze jump over to the man in question. Her skin jumped when she found his gaze was already fixed over hers, piercing through the strands of his blond hair with intent. A familiar static ran shivers through her skin, making the fine hairs of her flesh stand on end and causing a stutter in her chest. Rico swallowed, yet despite the reaction of her body beneath such a stare, she returned his gaze evenly. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice the quaking in her fingers. The tension seemed to cause the energy in the room to crackle and had Rico not been staring so intently she wouldn’t have caught the slight narrowing in Erwin’s eyes.

“Well?” Harke urged, voice sounding as crooked as the smile over her face. Still, Erwin said nothing. Rico fought the urge to take her lip between her teeth, daring not to move an inch. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had stared at her with such ferocity.

“Well, if you won’t,” Major Harke took a lithe step away from the wheelchair to grab another vacant chair. She swung it around and settled herself, legs straddling the back of the seat while her arms rested over the neck. “Don’t you think it’s a little curious, Miss Brzenska? How we have very little information about the outside expeditions?”

This was enough to pique Rico’s interest to break the stare down. Silver eyes swiveled away from the brooding Commander and toward the woman sitting just a foot away. The regret that came from doing so was instant. Piercing stars from Commander Erwin were nothing compared to the hungry grins of Major Harke. The woman’s lips pulled into a smile so sly it made Rico’s skin crawl.

“I’ve always found that information to be interesting.” Harke continued, letting her cheek rest over a palm. “Then again, I’d find it more interesting if we had more to talk about. I don’t know about you, but I just absolutely hate it when someone keeps a secret so tight.” Golden cat-like eyes blinked away to eye the silent man, “Makes you wonder if they can be trusted at all.”

Erwin’s fingers twitched against the armrests of his chair, and he let out a slow breath. Rico’s eyebrows curled downward into a frown. Not for the first time did she feel out of a loop, and honestly it was beginning to burn on the tips of her fingers. Harke let out a bored groan, “Come now, Commander. If you won’t speak, then I will for you.”

This was a power struggle. Rico realized it the moment Harke reached a hand over to tap a finger over the blond man’s thigh. The muscle of his leg clenched visibly the pale cotton trousers of his hospital clothes, and Rico nearly jumped out of her seat. _His leg…!_

Whatever elation came with the sight of seeing the Commander’s leg move disappeared when he moved a hand to brush Harke’s away. The motion was brusque, but it was soon followed by the sound of his throat clearing.

“Eight months ago, the Survey Corp arranged several squads of thirty men for the sole purpose of exploring new lands.” he said, and when Rico met his gaze in surprise, it was to see a different gleam in his eyes. It was no longer fierce… it was almost the exact opposite. “This was achieved with the permission of the Supreme Commander.”

“How many squads, Commander?” Harke purred, content.

“Eight,” was his coarse reply.

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” the Major inquired as if testing him to answer correctly. The tension in the room was so palpable, Rico wasn’t sure if she wanted to remain in her seat or leave.

“Yes.”

Rico glanced over to Harke, the woman’s lips had pursed from the sly grin into a look of distaste. “So, how far along had they been?”

“They departed for the outside lands a month after we received the approval. They were all scheduled to report back with carrier birds every three months.”

Harke’s pleased expression was all but gone. A black glower darkened her face as she processed Erwin’s information. Rico was confused. None of this information was particularly new, as Erwin had already shared this with her during their meetings. What did this woman expect to hear?

“And what did your men discover?” Harke asked.

Erwin replied, “Land. Immense spaces of land and the still burning carcasses of Titans.”

“Really?” the woman inquired, and suddenly the sly grin was back and chilling. “That’s funny, wouldn’t you agree, Squad Leader?”

Rico scowled, “I fail to see the joke, Major.”

Harke gave a light shrug, pressing a cheek against her palm casually. “Oho,” the woman whistled, eyes crinkling with devious amusement. “So, he hasn’t even told you?”

Rico’s stomach clenched. “What are you talking about?” she snarled.

Harke let out a giggle. Beneath the dim lighting and the fierce shadows, her face looked like the face of a predator keen on playing with its prey. “I have it on very good authority… that the Titans are still very much alive.”

What followed was a stunned moment of silence. All Rico could do was replay the words in her mind several times before finding the disbelief unmovable. With a snort, the short woman shook her head, “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe, Major.”

Harke didn’t seem surprised at Rico’s response, shrugging with a simple expression. “I doubt you need my forgiveness, Miss Brzenska—”

“—Squad Leader,” Rico corrected with a hardening voice.

The dark haired woman disregarded the interruption, “But would you be convinced if there was proof? Would you like to know?”

Rico’s eyebrows furrowed in thinly veiled fury, “As if I’d believe _anything_ you said.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing we have the Commander here, isn’t it?” All attention moved toward the man in question, yet Erwin had not moved an inch since his leg had given a twitch. Harke’s voice was disgustingly sweet, “Isn’t it wonderful that we can ask him about what’s really going on?”

At first, Rico was steel, her hands, and stance tight like a bowstring, still beneath the tawdry sway of Major Harke’s rhetoric. Erwin remained silent, however. Rico hoped that it was because it was he refused to entertain the taller woman’s games the look on his face concerned her. Beneath the dull lighting the curtains just barely allowed, Erwin looked exhausted. Further scrutiny made Rico’s hope waver with some trepidation.

“Sir,” she began, her scowl fading to a look of worry. “What is she talking about?”

Erwin said nothing, keeping everything hidden in a look of stone and silence. A glance made the concern wobble in her stomach because Harke looked positively smug at the man’s muteness. Without warning, Trika Harke rose from her chair and walked over towards the nightstand next to the cot, grabbing a slip of paper before sauntering back. She paused briefly by the curtains before drawing one open somewhat. The added light in the room made Erwin’s expression all the more defined. Something began to chill inside of Rico’s chest, and she hoped that it would thaw with a glance. Yet those blue eyes would not rise to meet hers again, and the chill increased to a frightening numbness.

“June,” Harke’s voice almost made Rico jump. The woman’s eyes were running over the contents of the paper. “‘Squad Rupert has advanced a total of fifty miles outside the known territory. There is no sign of danger or other life forms. Hunting for food is incredibly easy. One hundred years without human contact have made the animals easy to catch.’ Yadda yadda yadda…” She trailed off with a flippant toss of her hair. “Oh! This is interesting… ‘It appears that the Titans are truly gone. And yet…late at night, there are quakes. Squad Leader Rupert says nothing about it… but they are rhythmic. They feel familiar. No signs of Titans.”

When the woman paused in her reading she gave them a wide grin. Rico felt her stomach fall. “And then two weeks later, Squad Rupert is decimated, save one _final_ letter.”

She took a few steps closer, walking around Rico’s chair before leaning over her shoulder. Before Rico could tear her eyes away a single paper appeared before her eyes, two small sentences written out. Speckles of dark brown stained the paper. It wasn’t hard to guess what they were.

“Miss Brzenska, would you mind reading that out loud for us?” Harke asked.

Rico felt her skin become numb, noticed the date. She noticed everything. _Erwin…_

Her tongue felt like lead even while the words fell past her lips.

“They are back. God save us.”

* * *

 

The room was silent with a steady tension. It thrummed and it breathed in tandem with the five bodies that laid claim to its space. On the bed and safely covered in Hanji’s sheets, laid the figure of a sleeping Historia. She out of all of them had the only peaceful expression. Her safety was wreathed in sleep and even breaths of rest watched over by shadow-hooded eyes and dark expressions of varying intensities.

Hanji’s eyes were swallowed by the reflected candlelight, her spectacles glinting eerily. Her mouth was covered by several fingers, a silencing motion that denied any speaking. Despite the digits pressing knuckles against her lips, Hanji’s mouth still moved in inaudible mutters. While it was hard to see into her eyes, it was obvious they were not focused over the sleeping figure of the blonde woman. Instead, they would be focused on the simple and transparent little bottle that carried an unknown drug.

Mikasa stood not too far away, muscles coiled and ready to explode into action if needed. Her hands were clenched over the only weapon that Hanji had to offer; a slim super steel sword and hilt with damaged triggers. Mikasa didn’t mind the fact the firing mechanism was damaged. She didn’t need the 3DMG if it came down to it. Her speed was weapon enough against any and all potential dangers that could come barreling through the door.

Sitting on the edge of the bed was Sasha, her amber eyes dark with depressed worry and concern. She paused from her watchful gaze over their friend, blinking back tears that threatened to spill over any second. Despite the moisture leaking over the edges of her eyes, Sasha’s mouth was tight in a determined line. She would not sit back if she had to fight.

Inches away and standing by Sasha was Fitz. His arm was held by a new sling, and the gashes over his face were covered with fresh gauze and medical tape. He kept his gaze on Hanji, breathing slowly to keep himself from demanding answers. After some time, he blinked away to throw a wary glance at the door. Mikasa’s body was like a statue and nearest the door, but her onyx colored eyes were glowering black ire toward Hanji. It was obvious the questions that were begging to be asked, the answers that they were all starving for.

Fitz couldn’t help the anxiety churning in his stomach, worried that Moblit had been unable to derail the monster chasing after them.

It hadn’t been more than five minutes after Fitz and Sasha managed to sneak out Historia in a wheelchair before they bumped into a certain Military Policeman.

Fitz recognized him instantly. Gray hair, narrow eyes that stared down cruel promises… It was Russo.

Sasha had been too busy hobbling on a crutch behind him to notice and bumped against his back. “ _Fitz what are you doing?”_ She had hissed, “ _We have to get her out of_ …”

“ _I’m sorry,”_ Russo had cut her off. Fitz felt his blood run cold. “ _I’m afraid I wasn’t looking where I was going._ ”

“ _It-It’s no problem,_ ” Fitz had waved off with a shrug, “ _We’re just giving our patient some air…_ ”

“ _How admirable,_ ” Russo said with a smile. His teeth were sharp. Fitz wanted to run. “ _Are you sure you don’t need any help? Considering._ ”

Sasha was shaking her head furiously, “ _Tha-Thank you! Really, but we’ve got it. In fact, we have to get going!_ ” To their relief, Russo did nothing as they walked passed him, yet Fitz couldn’t shake the undeniable chill that he was staring after them. Eventually, they turned a corner before Fitz was all but jogging down the hallway, his hand clenched tight over the handle of Historia’s wheelchair. Sasha was huffing and gasping behind him, no doubt desperate to catch up. He couldn’t tell if her breaths were out of pain or fear.

“ _Was that… was he…_?” Sasha heaved, a few steps away. A glance toward her was enough for Fitz to know she was holding back agony, her expression strained with forced cheeriness as they passed by other staff people.

“ _Just keep moving_ ,” Fitz muttered. “ _The faster we get out of here, the sooner we can get her to Hanji._ ”

A distant crash made Sasha squeak in fright, and the sound of someone roaring in fury made Fitz nearly wet himself. “ _He knows,”_ Sasha stammered.

“ _Go!_ ”

The two ran, moving as quick as they could out the hospital wing. There was real and honest terror burning adrenaline through Fitz’s blood, making his body tremble even as he tried to escape smoothly. Sasha was moving quicker no doubt, the adrenaline was good for numbing pain and the fear made the rush for escape that much quicker. Even so, Fitz knew that they were not moving fast enough and Sasha’s gasps of pain were beginning to take on a sharper wheeze that made him glance at her. Fitz worried she wasn’t going to last much longer.

Minutes of rushing and looking over their shoulders passed. “ _Did we lose him?_ ” Sasha whimpered, and Fitz almost grinned.

“ _Let’s not count our chickens, just yet._ ” he said. “ _Let’s split up, just in case.”_

“ _Who’ll take Historia?_ ” Sasha asked.

“ _I can run._ ” Fitz offered, he turned to face her after they swung into a hallway. It was practically empty save a couple of people here and there. A large bookshelf filled with artifacts and tomes of medical and military information stood by the nearest wall. Fitz steered Historia’s wheelchair there, squeezing against the wood and letting Sasha squeeze next to him. A momentary hiding place. “ _You take Historia. I’ll draw him away._ ”

Sasha gawked, “ _What? No! Fitz, he’ll kill you!_ ”

He shook his head, “ _We don’t have time, Sasha! Just take her and go! I’ll be fine._ ”

“ _Isn’t that sweet?_ ” The voice made their blood run cold. They couldn’t see him from behind the bookshelf, but they knew he had found them. “ _I have to hand it to you both. You really made my day exciting. It’s as if you knew I was bored and wanted to entertain me with a chase._ ”

Fitz swallowed hard, glancing at Sasha and noticing her pale expression. He scowled in determination, before mouthing, _take her._ The auburn haired woman nodded shakily.

_“In any case,_ ” Russo’s voice was like honey, and it oozed and dripped as his footsteps drew closer. The sound of metal screeching on metal was terrifying. Fitz and Sasha moved faster.

“ _What are you doing?”_ Sasha whispered to Fitz as he grabbed the empty wheelchair.

“ _Buying you some time. When I draw him away, run._ ”

“ _Play time is over, kids._ ” Russo called. Something struck the wood of the bookshelf. Fitz barely managed to duck before something burst through the side of the bookshelf. Sasha screamed, her eyes following the slim and sharp point of a blade through the shelf, just inches away from where Fitz’s head was. Fitz pulled away, his face now bloody from the gash the blade left on his cheek beneath his eye.

Fitz spared Sasha one final glance before he grabbed the handles with both hands—his arm shrieking with violent pain—and swiveled the wheelchair from behind their hiding place and ran off.

“ _Sasha, run!”_ Fitz cried over his shoulder as he ran.

“ _Where do you think you’re going?”_ Russo shouted after him, dislodging his sword from the bookshelf with monstrous ease. Fitz didn’t spare any more glances, hearing the man’s footsteps running after him.

People and staffs-men exclaimed as they ran down the halls, jumping out of the way, even as Fitz hollered at them to move. Crashes and shouts followed the cacophony while Fitz ran for his life, yanking the empty wheelchair here and there and hoping that Russo didn’t notice that Historia was not upon it.  

Turning down a hallway, Fitz’s amber eyes found a series of hand-to-hand practice dummies tossed next to a storage unit. He almost whooped for joy, but tripped and went sprawling down. The chair slammed into the dummies, toppling over. Fitz was scrambling to his feet and yanking one of the dolls over the chair just in time to see Russo skid around the corner. He met his furious gaze in one second, the next he was pushing the wheelchair and running as fast as he could. The added weight didn’t help his escape, but it would be enough to sell the ruse.

He just hoped that Sasha was managing on her own with Historia. Running this way and that Fitz ducked under people and around bookshelves, his chest burning with fire and exhaustion, his arm throbbing and aching so viciously he could hardly keep his grip on the chair. The fall had jarred the fractures in his arm even worse and he vaguely wondered if it had caused more damage, but Fitz persevered. For a moment, Fitz was certain he would be able to outrun the violent man. Until, he turned into a hallway that lead to a single staircase.

Sweating and cursing, Fitz considered turning back around and heading down another path, but a crash somewhere behind him ended that venture. He tossed the wheelchair away, before hoisting the dummy over an arm and began to take the stairs two at a time.

“ _I’m getting tired of playing this little game, you little shit!_ ” Russo shouted from behind him. “ _Get back here_ , _now!”_

The command gave Fitz an idea and in the spur of a moment, he turned around to see Russo running up the stairs behind him. With a snarl and a breath, Fitz bellowed, “ _You want her so much? Here!_ ” before throwing the dummy down toward Russo.

The policeman gawked, scrambling to catch the dummy in dumb shock. The force and the weight were enough to toss the man off his feet and down the stairs. Fitz didn’t bother checking if the man made it all the way down and hoped that he, at least, broke his neck during the fall. He whirled around and booked it the rest of the way, letting his feet carrying him far away.

By the time he reached the Recon and Information offices where Hanji’s office was located, he saw Sasha just barely make it through the door. He nearly stopped out of sheer relief, rushing towards the door in time to hear another voice call after them. “ _You, girl! STOP!_ ”

Claude.

Fitz gritted his teeth, before he threw himself into the room, just in time to hear Sasha utter his name.

They had made it.

Historia was safe.

Not long after swiftly explaining what they saw in Historia’s room in the hospital wing, did Fitz finally give the flask of clear liquid to Hanji. Moblit had left the room, promising to make sure the coast was clear and that the danger was truly gone. Hanji had given them quick instructions: Place Historia on the bed, grab the swords that she kept in a small closet by the window, and stay put until they heard from Moblit.

It had been nearly twenty minutes of tense and steady silence. Sasha had helped clean and bandage the cut over his cheek and despite the pain ripping through the nerves of his arm, Fitz kept quiet. A swift knock on the door made them all give a sharp start, Mikasa’s blade wielding arm coming up in the direction of the sound.

“It’s Moblit,” Hanji stated, giving Mikasa a reassuring nod when the woman glanced over. “Let him in.”

Mikasa didn’t argue. Lowering her weapon, she stepped toward the door and pulled it open. Moblit appeared behind it, expression fierce and hair somewhat tussled. Mikasa’s grip on the doorknob was tight as she asked, “Are you safe?”

“Yes,” Moblit said and entered when Mikasa stepped aside. “I managed to knock out the short one without much problem.”

“What about the other one?” Fitz piped in. “Russo? Did he give you any trouble?”

Moblit shook his head. “He didn’t even show up. So either he’s backed off or something happened.”

“Let’s hope he broke his neck,” Fitz muttered. Sasha reached to grip to Fitz’s shoulder. When he glanced at her, she was giving him a wan smile. Without warning, Hanji shot up from her chair and waltzed toward the bed where Historia’s body lay, resting.

“So, they’ve been administering this drug to her?” Hanji asked, moving to peel the sheet off the smaller woman’s body. Her hands fell to grip around Historia’s wrists to press a couple of digits to her pulse. Hanji pulled her wrist to her line of sight, staring into the watch while the others waited. With a sigh, she released Historia’s wrist and began to poke and prod at her joints. “Did Russo and his lackey mention anything about this drug? What it was called or what it was made of? Anything about its nature?”

Sasha shook her head, expression pained when her eyes landed on Historia’s body. “No, just that she was taking too long in reacting to it. Russo threatened Claude to increase the dosage…”

“But Claude insisted that they had to be careful,” Fitz supplied when Sasha trailed off. “He said that best case scenario they were expecting something within two days, but that it’s been a week.”

Hanji straightened to meet Fitz’s gaze with a frown, “A week?”

“That’s how long I believe they may have been administering the drug.” Fitz nodded. “Thing is, neither of us knows how much they’ve been giving her or why.”

“What can you tell so far?” Moblit asked. Hanji pursed her lips before looking back at Historia’s sleeping face.

“Her heart rate is steady,” she explained slowly. Suddenly, Hanji’s hands moved like lightning, tugging at the sheet covering Historia’s body. Sasha let out an alarmed yelp, worried that Hanji may hurt her in any way. Instead, Hanji grabbed the hem of Historia’s gown and yanked upwards. Sasha squeaked before she slapped her hands over Fitz’s eyes, making the tall man grunt in surprise.

“Major Hanji!” Sasha exclaimed, cheeks flushing. However, the surprise of Hanji’s abrupt lack of propriety disappeared when they beheld the sight of Historia’s body. The group approached, their eyes wide—save Fitz whose gaze was still firmly covered by Sasha’s hands—as they stared down at the area of Historia’s bare abdomen.

“Her wound…” Moblit muttered in awe.

“It’s gone?” Sasha gasped. Fitz moved his head away from her hands, his eyes falling toward the source of everyone’s shock.

“Not completely,” Hanji muttered, but her eyes were wide with a hundred calculations while her lips thinned into a single line. Right over Historia’s stomach, several inches below her ribcage, was a thin line of puckered flesh tied together in dark stitches. The injury should still be bloody and tender, yet the once fatal injury merely looked like a simple flesh wound on her body. Carefully, Hanji reached down to grab the girl’s torso and shifted her over, her eyes falling over the exit wound where the metal had pierced through her body. The result was the same on her back. “This wound should have killed her.”

“Historia has always been resilient,” Sasha murmured, her face pale, yet even her words sounded muted with disbelief.

Hanji shook her head, “The trauma alone should have killed her and if not that then the blood loss should have done the last of it… but seeing this...”

“I had a feeling that they may have been giving her something to speed her healing,” Fitz spoke, earning a glance from Hanji. “Alex—a friend of mine—had been there when Jean brought her in. He saw how bad the wound was. He explained it to me, saying there was a super slim chance of her even surviving. By all means, I was expecting to see a girl on her deathbed. That’s how I knew something was wrong.”

“Why would the Military Police want Historia healed?” Moblit questioned with a frown. “If they are really working under Zackley, wouldn’t they want any possible opposition of his to die?”

Hanji pursed her lips before settling Historia back on the cot and lowering her hospital gown. After tucking her in the sheets, the bespectacled scientist leaned back and released a slow sigh. She threw Fitz another look, “What else did you hear them say about the drug? Are there side effects? A time frame for a result maybe?”

The question sparked recognition in both Sasha’s and Fitz’s eyes. Nodding, Fitz said, “Claude did mention that the dose they administered would show sign of reaction within an hour, maybe two.”

“How long has it been since then?” Moblit questioned.

“Since they administered the drug?” Sasha replied. “Probably a little over an hour by now…we took her as soon as they left.”

“So whatever they were waiting for should happen at any moment now,” Hanji stated. “In any case, we are still left wanting for more answers.”

“You said you managed to incapacitate the doctor, right?” Mikasa piped in, and the group turned to look at Moblit. “He could probably give you some answers.”

Moblit nodded, “It’s a possibility.”

“Where’d you put him?” Hanji asked, turning away from Historia to move toward her desk.

“I managed to stash him in the adjacent room.” Moblit said as they watched Hanji collect a series of tools from a drawer. His eyes crinkled darkly when he noticed a familiar black bag that Hanji pulled over the desk. “He shouldn’t be bothering us anytime soon.”

“Good,” Hanji said and her lips pulled back into a dark smile. “Wake him up. I have a few questions for him. Mikasa,” the woman in question straightened at being addressed. When Hanji turned to face her, her face looked brutally pleased. “Since Levi isn’t here, how would you like to fit in as my second to welcome our newest friend?”

Sasha stiffened, her cheeks paling before her eyes jumped toward Mikasa. The dark haired woman’s expression was cold and calculating, a spark of callousness rolled within her eyes. Moblit swallowed thickly, yet his expression took on a similar dark understanding that Mikasa now had. Fitz seemed to be the only one who didn’t get what Hanji was talking about.

“Fine,” Mikasa said after a moment.

Sasha gave a start, reaching for her friend, “Mikasa, don’t…”

“If it will get us answers, fine.” Mikasa agreed, fists clenching at her sides. “But, once we do, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

Hanji nodded as she paused to roll her sleeves up to her elbows. “Sounds good to me. Go get prepped. Moblit, make sure our guest doesn’t attract too much attention. As for you two,” she addressed Fitz and Sasha, eyes hard behind her glasses. In the distance thunder rolled, making the slight pause that followed pronounced with heaviness. “Keep an eye on her. If anything happens, and I mean _anything_ , you make sure you tell me or Moblit.”

Grabbing the black bag and placing it under her arm, Hanji faced Mikasa with a determined set of her shoulders. A flash of lightning in the distance reflected off her glasses and obscured her eyes with an eerie glow.

“Let’s go get some answers.”

* * *

 

_Mitras – Near Wall Sina_

 

Flakes of white drifted in soft falls over bustling streets, piling into small but very noticeable hills of frost and cresting snow. Puddles of water, having collected from days of rain, had become slick and dangerous to walk over, yet it didn’t stop children from running through streets and shouting in glee as they enjoyed the coming snowfall.

Footsteps struck the ground from small feet, and the screams and shouts of children only continued to add to the edge, sinking its teeth into Hitch Dreyse’s muffler covered neck. Olive eyes narrowed in disdain at the group of brats running down the sidewalk, Hitch gave one of them a black glare when they dared to run close to her side of the street. It was effective in the sense that the kid instantly let out a small squeak and steered clear from the angry looking lady in the long civilian jacket.

“For God’s sake, could you, at least, look like you’re enjoying our date?” Marlo’s voice came as soon as she heard his footsteps approach where she stood. She wasn’t sure if it peeved her more or less that she could recognize his gait so easily and without paying much attention.

“This isn’t a date,” Hitch replied gruffly, tightening the grip of her crossed arms as another chill ran down her back at a brief gust of cold wind. She turned and gave him an annoyed stare, “Did you finish taking a dump?”

Marlo scowled at her, his hair combed to the side so his appearance could match hers in secrecy. He looked more like a merchant than a soldier this way. It was almost impressive how easily his appearance could change from being a Lieutenant Major to a very dull looking civilian in simple clothes.

“I’m trying to make this believable,” he grunted at her, offering his arm for her to grab. Hitch sneered at him, but let her arm wrap around his. “We never know who is watching.”

“You’re so paranoid,” Hitch mumbled, more to herself in a complaint of their entire situation. Marlo nudged her with his elbow, having caught the comment but saying nothing in retort. “Any luck?”

“I met our contact,” Marlo replied as they strolled down the street and in the direction of a café nearby. “The guy seems ridiculous.”

“It’s easy to never suspect a ridiculous person,” Hitch said. “Which means you can relax because no one will suspect you in this get-up.”

“I do _not_ look ridiculous,” Marlo huffed, lifting a hand to press against his scalp. “And what about you? As if I wouldn’t notice you fixing your hair to look different too. Face it, you were looking forward to this.”

Hitch let out a soft gasp of outrage before swinging her foot against Marlo’s ankle. He released her immediately, letting out a sharp bark of pain before falling to the ground to cradle his wounded limb. Hitch, in the meanwhile, stomped off, muttering to herself and ignoring Marlo’s shouts of indignation. Eventually, she returned and hoisted Marlo up by the arms, rolling her eyes with a great display of exasperation while he glared at her.

“You didn’t have to kick me, you know,” Marlo grunted, rubbing the last of the pain away. Hitch gave him a gruff shrug in response, walking down the icy street with no intent of speaking to her match for the remainder of the evening.

Marlo, on the other hand, didn’t follow suit in playing the cold shoulder treatment. Catching up to her, he managed to shove his arm around hers so that she would be holding on to him. Hitch nearly shoved him off but a quick squeeze of her wrist made her pause.

“Would you knock it off?” he grunted irritably, “We’re almost there.”

To his relief, she stopped her attacks and settled down, but not before pinching him back and keeping her gaze fixed elsewhere. Marlo gave her one final warning glare before escorting her down the street and in the direction of their destination. The warm lights of the inside of a tavern were rather inviting and Hitch fought back a sigh of relief when Marlo led them to its door.

“Finally,” Hitch muttered under her breath. Marlo didn’t seem to hear, and if he did he ignored her, focusing in ushering her inside and throwing a few suspicious glances over his shoulder before closing the door.

The smell of warm ale and baked potatoes surrounded them like an embrace, instantly brightening Hitch’s sour mood and easing some of the tension off of Marlo’s shoulders. The tavern was pretty full despite the foul weather and the dull roar of chattering and conversation added to the inviting ambiance. Hitch was more than interested in getting some ale and even a meal, especially since she had been forced to skip lunch when Marlo had burst into her office earlier that day, his eyes wide and fists clenched around an envelope.

It appeared it was time to finally proceed with the first stages of their plan and while Hitch was a little relieved that they didn’t have to wait any longer, she wasn’t pleased with the idea of being yanked out of her seat and taken to the dirtiest part of the capital. Dressing up like civilians only added further insult to injury. She was used to having people bend over backward for her whenever she walked around, military police badge proudly buffed and shining over her breast. Having people treat her like anyone else was irritating.

“Get us a table,” Marlo’s voice trailed into Hitch’s ear. “I’m going to go find out contact.”

“Fine, but I’m ordering food,” Hitch replied and when she looked into his eyes she gave him a sly smirk. “You’re buying.”

Marlo’s eyebrows furrowed, displeased, yet he didn’t argue. “Do not open a tab here, Hitch. I swear to god if you do I’m going to abandon you.”

“As if you could,” Hitch laughed, but Marlo was already disappearing past the rows and groups of patrons. Rolling her eyes, Hitch headed in another direction, her keen eyes scouring the tavern for a place to sit. Despite the warmth and the alluring smell of food, Hitch was already finding a million things that irked her about this place. For one, it was pretty filthy. Old food stains covered the wooden tables and peculiar stains littered the floor without respite.

For another, many of the patrons were already throwing her leering smiles and drunken winks that made her shudder in revulsion. She hated undercover jobs, almost more than she hated drunken morons and unwelcome touches on her person. Eventually, her eyes landed on a lone booth, situated near the very back of the establishment and by a small window that peered into the streets. _Perfect._

Sliding swiftly passed, Hitch hurried to sit in the booth, throwing nasty glare after nasty glare to anyone who dared even come close to her personal space. Sitting down, she let out a small sigh and waited. Eventually, a tired looking waitress appeared, staring down at her with a forced smile and a casual, “What can I get you?”

Hitch jumped straight into an order, picking out dish after dish on the pathetic looking menu and ending with a huge mug of ale.

“That’s an awful lot, miss,” the waitress said, almost straining at the thought of carrying so much food out to one person. Hitch gave her a razor-sharp smile.

“I’ll leave a nice big tip if you bring it all here within the next twenty minutes.”

The waitress narrowed her eyes, “How big are we talking here?”

“Big enough to buy you a decent place near the center district.”

The waitress beamed a radiant smile. “I’ll have that order out to you immediately, miss.”

“I’m sure you will,” Hitch replied with a wide grin, waving her off as the woman disappeared into the mass of people. Sitting back on the cushioned seat, Hitch let out a small sigh and stared out the window. The snow was coming down with a little more intensity. Large splotches of white struck the glass before disappearing into fat drops that dripped down. The flurry was almost dizzying to watch and after some time, Hitch looked away.

Minutes passed and the waitress returned with a tall pint and an appetizer. Hitch dug in without a thought of her companion, knowing that eventually Marlo would be fine once the rest of the food showed up. However, eventually all the food Hitch ordered made its way to her table, and Marlo was nowhere to be seen.

A twinge of worry tied a knot in Hitch’s throat, making her study the crowd with a little more focus, hoping to find Marlo’s ridiculous hairstyle among the patrons. People rose and left, others walked in, and Hitch found herself unable to continue to eat the rapidly cooling food.

It was almost an hour and a half since they arrived that Marlo finally appeared, spooking Hitch as she had been staring out the window, wondering if he had stepped out into the blizzard.

“What the hell is with all this?” Marlo had exclaimed, seeing the plates of food and giving Hitch an irritated look. Hitch swallowed down the relief threatening to plaster a smile on her face, letting it fall into a fit of rage that directed itself as another kick to his shin.

“You idiot!” Hitch hissed and Marlo barked out a sharp yelp of agony. “Where the _hell_ have you been? It’s been almost two hours!”

Marlo shifted into the booth, shooting her a black glower before swiping a plate of fried slices of potatoes drizzled in some kind of green sauce. Hitch almost didn’t let him have it but kept her fingers dug against the edge of her seat in anticipation for his explanation.

“I told you,” Marlo muttered, taking a bite of the crunchy starch. “I went looking for our contact.”

Hitch shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “Did you find him?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I found him.”

He said nothing for a while after that, focusing on eating bits and pieces from the plates around them. Hitch stared at him, jutting her chin as she tried to urge more from her partner, “ _And?_ ”

“And…” Marlo said before taking in a big breath. He paused, lowering a chip from his mouth and let the breath out in a heaving sigh. “You’re not going to like it.”

Hitch’s expression flattened, “Spit it out, Sand.”

“Alright,” Marlo looked uncomfortable, “Until the very end of autumn, he won’t be able to… keep the package… anywhere safe.”

“Meaning?” Hitch asked nervously, although her mind was already connecting the dots at a rapid rate. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t ordered so much food because she was starting to feel sick.

Marlo’s expression softened into one of dejection, “Meaning we’ll need to find another place for him to stay.”

Hitch ripped herself away from the table, feeling fury stick needles under her skin and make her want to yank off her civilian clothing and jump back into the safety of her uniform. In her rage, Hitch didn’t catch Marlo shouting and running after her, trying to catch up while she stormed out of the tavern and into the flurry outside.

The bite of the chill mid-October winds dug invasive fingers through her clothes and into her bones, yet Hitch was far too angry to shiver. Her body was swiftly covered in a thin layer of frost and snowflakes, clinging to the tweed surface of her coat and hanging off strands of her hair. Hitch found herself feeling just as miserable as she probably looked.

“Hitch!” She heard Marlo exclaim just feet behind her. Hitch kept trudging on, not caring for which direction she was headed. A firm hand clasped around her elbow, stopping her from making another step forward before spinning her around. Instinct made her throw a hand up, slamming the knife of her hand into Marlo’s shoulder joint.

Marlo let out a sharp hiss, recoiling from the strike, “Hitch, what the fu—”

“I did NOT sign up for this, Marlo!” Hitch shrieked shrilly, her eyes wild with anger. “When I agreed to help you, it was to make sure that you wouldn’t get yourself killed in the name of some old geezers who have nothing better to do with their time! Not to have you _endanger_ yourself further—“

“I’m not doing this because this is a game, Hitch!” Marlo snarled back, staring down at her with a grimace. “I’m doing this because I’m tired of being ordered to ignore the people who need us! I’m doing this because this whole system is _fucked up_ and I want to make a difference!”

“Screw you and your difference!” Hitch cried, wiping away angry tears that burned as much as they froze against her lashes. “This is getting too far! Don’t you understand? If anyone finds out what you’re planning—what you’re getting yourself into—you won’t just get stripped of your status, you’ll get yourself killed!”

“Which is why I’m being careful!” Marlo insisted, throwing his hands to the sides.

“You think _this_ is being careful?!” Hitch snapped. Marlo threw his hands forward, catching Hitch around her shoulders. His grip was tight, almost painful, but there was no anger in his eyes, just a fierce desperation that scared her more than any outburst of ire could have.

“For fuck’s sake, Hitch, could you just listen to me for once?!” For a moment they stared at one another, surrounded by furious snowfall yet alone in this street. Puffs of white steam disappeared the second they escaped their lips and Marlo yanked a gloved hand through his hair, messing up the carefully combed style.

“Well, out with it then,” Hitch said, crossing her arms and fixing him a sharp look. Marlo searched her gaze before letting out another sigh.

“Fine. If you want out now then you don’t have to come with me anymore,” he said softly, snowflakes hitting his face and clinging around his crown. Hitch nearly gaped at him, stunned. Marlo gazed at Hitch with a stern expression, “I can handle this on my own. Go home, Hitch.”

Marlo turned around and began to head back to the tavern. Without thinking, Hitch yanked her hand forward and caught him around the sleeve. She was shaking, almost violently, and that she could blame too easily on the cold, but when Marlo turned around to look at her in surprise Hitch nearly bit her lip off trying to contain herself from crying.

“ _No._ ” Hitch said firmly.

“Hitch, what are you—?”

“I said, _no_ , Marlo.”

Marlo looked at a loss. His eyes remained fixed on hers, a tumult of emotions rolling in his gaze far too fast for her to register. Hitch took in a shuddering breath before taking a step closer.

“I told you once that I owe those crazy old bastards a debt… so I’m not going anywhere.” Her grip on his sleeve tightened until he could feel her trembling. Despite the cold around them, there was a heat in her blood that had nothing to do with rage. “But, if you’re going to do this, we’re going to do this the smart way because I am _not_ going to see you get killed over this. Not if I can help it. Understand?”

Marlo nodded dumbly, “Yeah…”

Hitch let him go, swiping snow off her clothes despite the futility of it. “Good. I guess there’s no helping it. If we have to hole him in one of our places then fine… but if he tries to kill us for what we did, Marlo, I’m going to be pissed.”

Marlo brightened suddenly, something dawned into his eyes before a sly smile slid over his lips. Hitch wasn’t sure if she liked the sight. “What is it?”

“Actually,” Marlo chuckled. “I think I have an idea on where we can keep him.” Quickly, he reached over and grabbed Hitch’s hand and tugged it around his elbow. Hitch barely managed to exclaim in question as he led them both back toward the tavern.

“First thing’s first,” Marlo said over Hitch’s grunts of protest. “I need to have a word with our contact.”

* * *

TBC

_A/N: This chapter is a little short of the usual 10k. I had a **lot** of revision to do and considering all the new developments and the developments to come, I have also been working on revamping TC. A lot of you have been so faithful and honestly, if not for your reviews and comments and even anon messages on Tumblr, I wouldn’t have returned. But now, I’m back. New chapter is already in the works as we speak. :) thanks guys_


	21. Chapter 21

**Nimbus**

**Update**

Hey everyone! I appreciate all the attention and faithful reviews and constant reading and encouragement. I truly, truly love hearing from you and how this story and its predecessor, Thunder Clouds, has affected you and made you a bigger fan of this story. I honestly am so extremely happy that this story still get some attention despite my inability to update as frequently as I used to.

That being said, and to clear things up—

**Nimbus is NOT being discontinued.**

It is, however, going to go under a short hiatus (and by short I mean maybe a few months) and won't return to its regular update schedule until April or May of 2016, this year.

Why?

If you guys already follow me on Tumblr – username K-lionheart – then you may or may not have stumbled into a post that explains why, so you can skip this next paragraph. If not, keep reading!

The reason why I've decided to pause Nimbus is because of a few issues concerning Thunder Clouds. That's right. Thunder Clouds is going to be re-constructed and improved to match the quality and storytelling depth that Nimbus has evolved into. Some of this issues have to do with a lot of plot development—and some serious plot-holes that need fixing—and continuity errors. Frankly put, TC does not do Nimbus enough in building the pathway to read it and I want the story to do its part in really making Nimbus feel better than it already does. How come? Well, if you aren't already aware, TC and Nimbus have been written in such a way that they follow canon events, or rather, ensure their involvement. I want this story to feel as genuinely close to the canon as possible, but of course, there are several things that diverge from the story—such as headcanons and split ideas that have little to no chance of happening in the canon because, YAY, this is still very much an AU.

A lot of you may feel very sad that you won't find out what happens next very soon—and I am profoundly aware of how disheartening that is as a reader. However! Rest assured that Thunder Clouds is going to be fixed to such an extent that when you read it again, it'll be like reading a whole new story! (Well…within reason, lol)

The first chapter is already written and ready for publishing and will be up as soon as I make sure I have every little detail cleaned up and polished.

What about the original TC? If you really like it, I will leave the current version up here on AO3.

The new version will be added on FF.net, as well as on AO3 as a new and separate story. It will also be available for download.

That's about it! If you guys have any questions, such as an official release date, I will make any and all announcements on my tumblr blog, fanfiction dot net profile page, and my AO3 profile page as well.

Thanks for the support!

Yours

K-lionheart


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